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Thread: Speaking Out

  1. #1
    Registered User Delta40's Avatar
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    Speaking Out

    First I thought I might be a clothes horse
    Galloping through the mall.
    Captured by all the beautiful displays
    And I gaze, amazed
    So many colours to absorb as if
    I were in an eastern market drowning
    In exotic flavours
    A voice said:
    ‘You’re a bit too fat for that’
    Then I am liquid warm and
    Begin to boil over with shame
    Bubbling like a cappuccino till
    I can’t think straight. My head
    Is so light and frothy.

    I move to and fro
    Just go, go, go and never slow
    Don’t mind the drips of me
    Over the floor, out the door
    Into this ever-changing world.
    Here in the sun, the cold, the rain
    I am lost to the elements
    No, perhaps I'm saved as they
    Forcefully bring me
    Into sharp contrast with
    My own minuteness
    Caught between the forces
    Of nature and technology
    Like love and the science of washing powder.

    An old woman passes by
    Her grizzled features
    Hide a girlish smile and for a
    Fleeting second our lives coincide,
    Form a union of understanding
    That such generations have always communicated.
    In the mutual silence between us,
    I recognize this space, this place made for me,
    The washer.

    Once I was shiny and new
    I evoked so much excitement and
    It felt nice to be admired by others.
    Somewhere at the back of a drawer
    You might find a dog-eared guarantee with
    My name on it but it doesn’t matter.
    Not anymore.
    Too many rinses and soakings
    To remember I was ever a top model.
    Like the constant stream of news,
    I’ve been shaped and changed
    Along with all the world.
    One can never look or feel like yesterday
    Again.

    You see, there was simply loads to do
    It's true.
    Always something needed right now.
    Later, when the house was quiet
    I was so washed out, there was
    no energy left to speak
    The seasons passed in cycles
    And I went through so many of them
    Myself
    Sometimes flooding so hard,
    I passed out.
    Helplessly caught in a constant spin,
    Nobody heard my cries for help.
    Don’t bother us with your messes.
    I rocked back and forth
    Back and forth
    Alone.

    Losing parts is the natural course
    Go ahead, stand back and
    Notice how time takes its toll.
    I’ve been scratched so badly,
    Finger me if you want.
    Dented all over, the rust is eating me
    From the inside out.
    My nuts and bolts rattle so loud
    That folk complain so the door is
    Often closed to keep
    My noise down yet
    Having a screw loose isn’t something
    To be embarrassed about;
    Not when you're me.
    Perhaps the tales I have
    Collected are interesting.

    Laughing children, soapy accidents
    Loose coins, buttons and clips.
    Remember when the Good News Bible fell apart?
    Major blockage for the whole family!
    The gradual change in sounds as we each
    Grew, aged.
    Some left, some died.
    Everybody’s dirty laundry has passed
    Through me, the trusted one,
    The one who bears every load
    Because I am pre-programmed
    Always to put others before me.
    I'd like to say something though.

    Today I cough and sputter
    You can’t flip my switch
    Turn my dial
    Press my buttons
    The only sound to be heard is
    A tired old groan because at
    This late stage, I’m completely run down
    So you tell everyone my day has arrived
    Yes, at last. Through the linting and laundering
    Through the intimacies of life, it’s time
    For me
    This old wreck
    To speak out.

    I am on the roadside where
    A council truck approaches like a
    Funeral cortege playing Kintail
    My purpose has no meaning
    And meaning has no purpose.
    In my dilapidated state I ponder
    My inner workings, why they no longer matter, how
    Constant cycles of removing filth
    Still end up in dirt.
    Here I wait,
    Stripped of my protective steel armour
    A bowed frame of my former glorious self.
    Finally I actualize like Maslow
    I am wreckage
    Without sound
    Beautifully silent
    Ready to be crushed.
    Last edited by Delta40; 10-28-2016 at 09:24 PM.
    Before sunlight can shine through a window, the blinds must be raised - American Proverb

  2. #2
    Registered User tailor STATELY's Avatar
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    Magnificent poem.

    Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
    tailor STATELY
    tailor

    who am I but a stitch in time
    what if I were to bare my soul
    would you see me origami

    7-8-2015

  3. #3
    Maybe YesNo's Avatar
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    Very nice poem. Good use of the idea of washing clothes over an over again. (Maybe that is why I don't wash my jeans as often as I should? No, that's laziness.) I liked the ending about being ready to be crushed. I can relate to that, also the momentary meeting of that older woman and sharing a brief silent understanding.

  4. #4
    riding a cosmic vortex MystyrMystyry's Avatar
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    That folk complain so the door is
    Often closed to keep
    My noise down yet
    Having a screw loose isn’t something
    To be embarrassed about;


    Amazing Delta

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