#OctPoWriMo Day 16/Tale Weavers: Poem – Free Verse – “Me Too” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers


Thanks to Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the Tale Weavers prompt on circles or wheels in life. For OctPoWriMo Day 16 with a prompt on tears and fears.

——

Carli Jeen via Unsplash

——

I didn’t mean to break the teacup, 

I didn’t know it was so sacred. 

That porcelain so fine,

Meant to last generations, 

Passed down from mother —

To daughter. 

But Great Gran hated her China pattern, 

It wasn’t to her taste; 

It wasn’t used, 

At each meal for supper; 

It would’ve shattered,

Much sooner then. 

Great Gran knew like people, 

China is delicate, 

Especially if it’s shatters, 

And re-pieced. 

And you can’t possibly tell me, 

Fragility is permanent. 

That those who are broken, 

Remain that way, 

Once you break someone,
They’re never whole again;
They’ll heal and they’ll form, 

White scars gleaming.

But you cannot make anew,

What must be glued together;

Fragment by fragment. 

You can’t expect it to maintain, 

Indelible strength.

You don’t know what defines beauty, 

True beauty is brokenness. 

That those not in their entirety,

Are destined to chip and crack. 

Perhaps their outer designs and artistry,

Masks their flaws. 

But fault lines are visible, 

Places one could dig deep, 

Exploiting pains throbbing echo, 

Across generations, 

And unwanted China. 

You’d think we’d be afraid of shattering,

We’re all terrified until we find,

Someone to help us, 

Someone who doesn’t see the cracks. 

Love blinds us in many ways,

Some that hurt, 

Some that heal and bind wounds. 

It’s a cycle, a circle, 

Despair and rapture, 

Too much or too little.

And I think Great Gran, 

Would’ve smiled, 

Seeing your beloved teacup scatter; 

It’s just a cup, 

One she despised. 

For she wanted a reality for us,

Beyond teacups, of lady’s serving tea;

She didn’t want our suffrage,

Our call to feminism,

To remain at the price,

Of “me too,” where —

Every woman,

Has had a close call,

Not one she wanted; 

A narrow escape,

Or a constant nightmare, 

Where pleas meant nothing.

“Me too,” she would say, 

Staring with disgust, 

At a patterned teacup, 

China gifted from the husband,

Who perpetually, 

Reminded her of wifely duties, 

With or without, 

Her blessing or consent. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Advertisements

Poem: Cascading Etherees –  “Him Narrating Defeat of The Pillow Wall.” #wordhighjuly #amwriting #poetry #siping



——-

http://www.wifflegif.com

——-

Here siping beside you on our comfy, 

Stalwart bed; the pillows stacked so high.

“Why so many pillows? Explain what,

You need them all for because–

Babe, you don’t touch me and I, 

Miss you and your bright, 

Smile; as we delight, 

In us both, 

Loving, 

Well.”

—–

“But, 

Now you, 

Build a pile, 

A pillow fort.

Are bed is divided, 

We can’t even see each —

Other; and it feels as if, 

We’re children playing games you  —

And I; forts being a fun thing in my past, 

Yet with you, there’s no fun only, silence.”

——-

“I tried breaking down your wall once you woke, 

I said, ‘”I’ve had enough,”‘pillows flew, 

Throwing them on our bedroom floor, 

I brought you so close to me, 

Told you,’ “I missed you,

Please, let’s not fight you’re, 

right. I’ll spend more, 

Time with you, 

From now, 

On.”‘

—-

“You, 

Gazed, 

At me in, 

Shock, smiling a —

Bit sleepily, 

Saying, ‘”My dream has come, 

True; but I need us to always, 

Be a priority in our —

Life, together;”‘and I smiled with hope, 

Held you, whispering:”Baby, me too.”‘ 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.