Poetry Thursday- cliches

You know the old saying about stones and glass houses.

Well this is my favorite take on it.

The Woman in the Glass House Speaks

by Martha Mihalyi

I know everything around me

can shatter in a high wind,

at the kiss of stone or

the highest note. What is

important here is to walk

gracefully, the imagined book

balanced on the head and

no hand, no heart, no thought

to swerve for. What is important

is to see through each wall

another wall after and then another

until I am outside myself like a bird

resting on a high glass sill-

who must know it is only air beneath:

the blur of blue and green

to fly or fall through,

weightless and singing.

Poetry Thursday- Walls

Casual Killer

Undisclosed doorway
I decend through
your depth
disengaging
from all response-
you drink down my
distress.

Provisional portal
I no longer
dispute your power,
passive to suppresion-
it plagues my
principle.


Casual keeper
I cannot consent
to contract
my character
to your control-
STOP-
I crawl from your
crime.


Walls- I found this to be an interesting prompt. Years ago I wrote this poem. Took a poetry writing class in college. (Hated it by the way) Having someone (or many people) critique your private work was so difficult. My professor had a hard time with this poem. He used words like " too philosophical" (ok- this is poetry-correct), need better verb than disengaging (wow- what verb would you use?), "I am having trouble seeing this.

And he wasn't wrong is so many aspects. He was right on the money. You can't see through it, you can't see behind it, you can't see what you want to see---- there is a wall. And it is merciless. There is no emotion, no light, no warmth. Numbness all around. Darkness all around. It sucks you down - down - down.

I think that I found truely explaining this poem to the group of people (they were not warm fuzzys) was something I could not do. So they did not get it. I don't think that many of them had hit rock bottom like I had. They couldn't feel how the allegory was like a prison- boxed- rigid.
I can feel it though. Still can - years later.

I know that it is not a great poem- but it is mine. And I prouldly share it with you now knowing that it is mine- was mine- was my space- was my wall. WAS- pieces still hang there inside me (and I know that I could easily pull them back into place to protect once again what little that I had that was mine), but the wall has come down. The wall, that portal no longer holds me in. I let the ghosts fly free within me. At this point in my life- without them I would no longer be whole.

Poetry Thursday- Favorite Lines

I have been wanting to participate in Poetry Thursday for so long. But I have been very lazy about it and very scared. Scared to look that deep inside myself again.

I used to be a poet- long ago. I was young, naive and romantic. But as most people exerience at one point or another- I had some life altering experiences. And in my need for self preservation- I closed a few doors inside myself.

But I am needing to re-enter again. And allow the sunlight to reach those dark places. I no longer need to spend time with that girl. She and I can to terms with each other a long time ago. Over the years she finally let me grow up and I finally let her be apart of me again. I love her- and all that she was- but that took a lot of years and self acceptance to reach that place. We are one and we are at peace.

So it's time for a little poetry. Some of hers, some of mine, but all of ours.

It is very difficult to pick just one or two favorite lines of poetry. There are so many swimming in my head. So many memories, sights, sounds, smells, colors and flavors attached to them.

Shakespears Sonnet # 58
"I am to wait, though waiting so be hell,
Not blame your pleasure, be it ill or well."

Dorothy Parker- Men
"They hail you as their morning star
Because you are the way you are.
If you return the sentiment,
They'll try to make you different,"

e.e. cummings
"may i feel said he
(i'll squeel said she
just once said he)
it's fun said she"