Saturday, October 23, 2010

perception

I swipe the floor twice
still curdled smell of milk persists
I also wipe the tears from her eyes

what if her dress is smeared with dirt
her hair is a ghastly sight
I gently untangle it with my fingers

she wipes her nose in my neck
I smile slightly and kiss her eyes
lead her to her favourite place-

she settles with a bowl of crispies
thumbing her book once in a while
I watch serene smile return to her face

knowing her, if you say
this is the scariest story I've ever heard...
I will totally disagree, as I know

she found clouds in the spilt milk
dragons fought for her,
while unicorns held her hand

now she sits here replete
with another dream in the making
I wonder, what would I find the next moment?

"in that brief moment nirvana emerges out of nowhere"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I couldn't think of any other title for this. Suggestions are welcome.

34 comments:

vivinfrance said...

Aren't kids just revoltingly gorgeous?

anthonynorth said...

A delightful struggle :-)

Jackie said...

I had to read your poem twice to get it . I'm slow :( It is a very good and happy ending story. I like happy endings.

Elizabeth said...

I love the line about seeing clouds in the spilt milk, and the richness of the dragons and unicorns. As far as suggestions for a title: Clouds In Spilt Milk?, I'm not sure, just know that I really like the gentle feel of this one.

Elizabeth

Teresa said...

Absolutely gorgeous imagery and brilliant telling of how a child's perception of what their imaginations create are so real.

Well done!

Diane T said...

How about Nirvana Emerges? A fabulous but freaky poem, LOL.

Sue said...

I'm glad that dragons fight for her and unicorns hold her hand. We all need that.

And we all need our dreams, wherever they take us.

=)

Viki said...

I love imaginations of kids. I think us adults could use more of it in these days and times. Good job.

Mary said...

Your poem is filled with beautiful images. It is amazing where one can go in one's dreams.

Jingle said...

beautiful madness.

Koby said...

I think the title fits it perfectly..I too read it twice, to soak up all the sweetness, curdled milk and all.

Judie said...

A lovely post! I thoroughly enjoyed it!

ana said...

Such a sweet picture of the imagination of a child.

Ames said...

No sense crying over spilt milk. Just a small distraction in a childs day.~Ames

Jenners said...

such a lovely and poetic approach to the prompt. Very well done. I love imagery about clouds in milk and the protection of the dragons.

My name is PJ. said...

Beautiful imagery here. She's floating effortlessly through her imagination.

Kat said...

What beautiful imagery. "Dragons fought for her, while unicorns held her hand" - simply lovely. Kat

flaubert said...

Gautami,
I love images in this poem.
Pamela

rob kistner said...

children... clumsy, messy riots of what-would-we-ever-do-without-them... ;)

...rob

June Freaking Cleaver said...

Each day with a child is a lovely adventure, filled with dragons, unicorns, mucus and spilt milk.

ms pie said...

yes, yes... children are the cat's meow... i love to listen as they play pretend... it makes me feel safe in a chaotic world... snot, whadaya do when they wipe it off with yr shirt... ewwwwwhhhh thaz love... dripping gray

shanegenziuk said...

Great use of language. A pleasure to read.

Deborah said...

Just wonderfully written, I loved this.

Tina said...

nicely written

gospelwriter said...

loved this! especially:

she found clouds in the spilt milk
dragons fought for her,
while unicorns held her hand


how wonderful to be able to see the magic even through the tears...

senderupwords said...

Second last stanza is AMAZING. Nice write. Love and Light, Sender

Bloggin'withAmanda said...

My Gosh this was awesome. the innocence and the magic only a child can see only someone who loves them can feel!

Reflections said...

Love the imagery, the clumsy innocence... the childhood dreams or nightmares... let's go with dreams.

Nice write.

RawknRobynsGoneBlogWild said...

I love this sweet piece and the way you subtely incorporated the prompt. Well done.
xoRobyn

Cheryl said...

A sensory piece. Every word just perfect.

Anna said...

Simply beautiful and so true, every word. There are dragons; there are unicorns; everything is mixture of the everyday chores and the fantastic, when you are with a child, as you have so perfectly described in your lovely poem.

I am constantly reminded of how differently adults and children percieve time. The days creep along for a four year old, it is an Eternity until Christmas. (I remember thinking this myself when I was a child.) Whereas, for the adult, the weeks race by at lightning speed. "Oh no, it will be Christmas soon! What am I to do? I have nothing ready?!"

My children are growing up too fast. It makes me very sad to see their childhood hurry along... (please remain a child a little longer...) And I am the one to wipe the spillt milk or what ever else that needs mending. I am sometimes overwhelmed by all the little repair-jobs that need to be done: holes in the toes of socks, broken toys, something needs to be sewn, pasted, tied or glued. The fact that I have the time to sit and write, to even put this down in words is only because the children are on an outing with their father. I cannot think very deeply when they are with me. Yes, I think, but I cannot record even a fraction of my thoughts when I am with them. They take almost all my energy and perception.
It is so intense.

I love your poem.
Thank you for sharing it.
A title? Please let me think about it. I'll try to get back with you.

Best wishes,
Anna


Anna's & Sara's SC-post Week 25

Tgoette said...

What a lovely take on the prompt. Well done!

Jenny said...

I really like the title. Or un-perceptions...Miss Perceptions...

I think it's great as it is...

And I think this poem is an amazing TREAT to read on a BOO-tiful Halloween afternoon.

At first I thought you were going a different direction so the whole read was a surprise.

You are an amazing writer.

Wow.

Jinksy said...

I think I might call it 'Motherlove'...