I lost it-
a goose bump to you
a whole universe for me
you hid it in the closet
along with few of my breaths
which I have saved from you
I wonder how you found my hiding place
where I have hoarded massive stuff
the moments I stole from you
that scar which bothered you
I have braided our intermingled breath
in the knob on the closet door
how did you find my hiding place
now yours too
yet I know too well
you will never find anything that I hid there
that coin wrapped in with your scent is all I have of you
not to forget the togetherness we had shared
in the floor by the fireside
I prefer those to be well hidden
from your prying self
"nailing that closet was never so tough"
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I wrote a poem out of nothing and everything. We hoard keepsakes of material things apart from our memories. And I tried to create a poem from that memory, keeping out material things. Anyone else who does this, I would love to read it. I offer it as a prompt for We Write Poems...
23 comments:
def felt...i think in some ways we all cling to tangible memories...to have those violated is a scary thought...
Clever and I love how you added these keepsakes as treasured thoughts of holding one's soul! It was scary good!
Such memories are truly our own, letting others have a peak wouldn't be the best, great verse.
memories are a treasure and I felt this in your poem.
well done and brave of you to write this poem of all your memories and keepsakes.
great imagery here...having our hiding places.. of whatever sort they may be.. invaded is tough..
Ah, the intangible stuff, the hiding place. I like the drift of your poem and the prompt is gonna be great. Thanks Gautami.
The metaphor of innermost self is strongly portrayed in this beautiful poem. It is one thing to reveal what we choose in our writing, and quite another to be invaded involuntarily.
Very revealing, and beautifully visual.
We keep entire containers of "archives" from favorite clothing to old posters. Every so often we run across on archive and say "Oh, I totally forgot about that." Hide them? Not on purpose.
Alice
So many layers to this poem. Love that. It is like stowing away treasure but at the same time I sense fear in the character's voice - that is is one aspect of their person they wish to exercise control over because they're afraid of losing what is precious to them, of exposure. Just me spinning my own yarns of course. It's been a long day!:)
We all have hidden places that we hide memories in and this was so well done and enjoyed it so much
http://gatelesspassage.com/2011/10/11/the-day-of-the-dead/#comment-1682
You've set up another fine situation. I do want the question answered, though. Was the other following, or was a tether left on one braided breath?
I have braided our intermingled breath
in the knob on the closet door
That's lovely!
smart piece...
The closet...great metaphor! I like the prompt and look forward to writing to the notions of keepsakes and memories.
Good work, Gautami!
<3
Sometimes the very thing we cling onto the most is the very undoing of us.
Lovely, lovely prose. :)
very nice imagery and an interesting prompt.
Interesting poem.Hoarding does sometimes become the way by which a person tries to retain memory.
Lovely poem about keepsakes and memories, Gautami.
Pamela
Beautiful poem! I am definitely a saver of keepsakes. I like the idea that they represent the moments and/or people that stole a goosebump from me. :)
Many interesting images within this "remembered" poem. And thanks for what may well be a provocative prompt. ~neil
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