Blissful Ignorance

[Delta40]

In this corner
A topless washing machine
Has loads to do.

Sorting, talking,
Separating transparents
From thick woolies.

How the bulb flickers
To reveal my battered truths!

But who am I to question the shadows
Anymore than the light?

In the tub colours run,
Threads come loose
And tissues cannot hold tears.

Bubbles agitate and no longer cleanse
The thoughts or actions I commit.

Such waters are rank and fetid
Like the membranous fluid I soaked in.

No softener or bleach can rinse away
A well imagined drought.

And I am unable to shift the stains
Embedded in the fabric.

So when the fuse blows,
I shall glory in darkness,
Scurry across floors and dank walls.

Then I will join the many in the machine's belt,
To spend my existence feeding off ancient lint.

I will be oblivious to knowledge,
Cycles,
Seasons,
Wings.

[AuntShecky]

I don't know why this one as yet hasn't generated more comments. It's splendid. The laundry imagery is sustained all the way through, and it reflects authenic emotion.

The following couplets are the best of the lot (though they're all very eloquent):

No softener or bleach can rinse away
A well imagined drought.

And I am unable to shift the stains
Embedded in the fabric.

Metaphors of cleansing --such as "washing one's sins away"--are prominent throughout Western literature.The specific poem which your laundry poem comes to mind is "Love Calls Us to the Things of This World"by Richard Wilbur.

[Delta40]

Thanks auntie. I will read the poem.

[virtuoso]

This sounds like an Augustinian fulmination. I love the washing machine metaphors. Maybe you need a wishing well! A well-written poem. This poem deserves credits. I hope more of the Litnutters will jump on board.

[Delta40]

Thanks V.