Thursday, November 1, 2018
ALL THE BOOGEYMEN AND THE GODDESSES ARE GONE
I initially engage a book of poetry
somewhere in the middle,
looking to avoid
beginnings and endings
as one always leads to the other
and if we'd just meet each other
halfway the cycle might be broken.
I don't need new and improved
like the dubious claims in that
laundry detergent commercial.
Am quietly content with
a 1997 issue of Ploughshares
that I picked up at the used book sale.
Those poems have been neglected
for some time (I can identify)
so I pay them a visit to find
lo and behold that neither they
nor their creators have aged...
only me...old and unimproved.
And then the next ad pops up
and it's the real people-- not actors--
with their testimonials, don't you know.
And as for those backhandedly maligned
thespians, I wonder if at the end of the day
do they turn back into real people again
when they go home to their families
or maybe just a room with one dim
bulb hanging down from
the ceiling and a cat.
And now back to our story.
But maybe I'll just switch it off
before the foregone conclusion.
Have done it before.
You just walk out the door.
(Avoiding the saddest part of the drama.)
Used to think maybe I would
miss something that way.
But now can see that
all I missed was the ending.
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I enjoyed the conversational tone of this poem and felt as if it was directed at me. I like the idea of avoiding beginnings and endings, of paying neglected poems a visit, and of people in ads turning back into real people again!
ReplyDeleteWe've a lot n common, Kim. Thanks so much!
DeleteI like the ending--and how you may have missed it.
ReplyDeleteStill, there was an ending wasn't there? Can't really avoid them, but this is a poem about how hard we may try.
DeleteI sometimes wonder is there really a beginning or an end to a poem? Do we really see into its depth and meaning? Our words however perfect or imperfect they may be possess a part of our mind and heart, no matter how many years may pass.. the emotion is always as fresh as it was before. ❤️ A heart-stirring write Timoteo!
ReplyDeleteNicely stated, Sanaa. Thank you!
DeleteThis hits hard and true: neither they
ReplyDeletenor their creators have aged...
only me...old and unimproved.
That's the think about poetry. It's suspended in time. But we're not so lucky.
DeleteLife itself is a work in motion, ever forward, and we all know the ending--either dirt nap nothingness or perpetual motion soul dancing. Yet I applaud your flip-off of convention. I used to do 6 word stories on Twitter, only the juicy middles of things; it was interesting to let the imagination compose the back story and destination.
ReplyDeleteI admire anyone who can write a story that short. The novelist always struggles with what to leave in and leave out, but six words takes that to the extreme--lol
DeleteI lke the tone in this, the way the people change from real people to actors back to real people. Most apt in this shape shifting season of the year.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Toni. I hope you've shifted gears successfully.
DeleteThis is even better on the second read. I always turn into fog in the fall. I become shape shifter extraordinare.
DeleteNice. I concur with opening poetry books in the middle first, and as for actors, I wonder if they forget who they were before the scripts.
ReplyDeleteMany actors completely lose themselves in the character. They go from being a real person to being a fictional character. That's when fiction becomes real, so who's to say what's what?
DeleteIt's always safer and warmer in the middle, isn't it? … unless it's a fight or a war of course. Love, cat.
ReplyDeleteBetter to bring up the rear in that case :)
DeleteBetter to huddle in da middle … c.
DeleteSigh. "All I missed was the ending." I missed a few of those myself. "Blackbird" is singing in my head right now.
ReplyDeleteWhen you've already deduced the ending, you can get up and leave the theater. Who needs that extra drama, eh Sherry?
Delete__ To the last word. _m
ReplyDeletepage to page
we write to improve our heart
the last word
Very nice, my friend.
Deletehere's a haiku
I'm writing to you
lost my pencil
I hear ya...meeting in the middle is always a fair and lovely compromise.
ReplyDeleteAnd then there's the middle path, which is kind of a Buddhist thing,also figured into this.
DeleteVery thought provoking. I interpret it as a metaphor for life. Beginnings are good... endings are not.Middles are only middles because an ending is on the horizon and I should really go and have a cup of tea because it is far too early for me to engage in a philosophical discussion:) I enjoyed this poem a lot.
ReplyDeleteOh, but you're really good at it. Thanks!
Delete