Love,
It’s the proverbial pickle jar
With the stuck lid,
We prise and prise with all our might,
Our hands growing red, sore, grooved,
Trying to unleash the contents.
For we must have them, we must taste them,
No matter how much strain and effort it takes,
Wrapping cloths around bleeding hands
In order to get a better purchase,
Desperately trying to unscrew,
Grimacing with frustration,
Wondering why it wont come easy for us…
Until at last, the victory,
The easing off of the lid, casting it aside,
The smell of pickle juice stinging the air,
Telling you you’ve won, you’ve beaten the jar,
Its all yours now.
Of course, for some,
By the time they’ve actually got the damned thing open,
All that effort and strain hardly seems worth it;
They forget why they wanted pickle in the first place,
Stowing the jar away, opened but unused.
And others, those with the ridged hands,
Blistered and starving,
The lid never comes off at all.
The jar sits, holding promises that cant be savoured,
Alone at the back of a cupboard.
Author notes
Written October 24th, 2006
What did you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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I'm never going to look at pickles the same again... XD
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i really love this, its so true...i love the whole metaphor, its really original and fresh, with the tang of vinegar, its great!!!
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I LOVE the analogy! This poem is great, and so very true. Besides that I love pickles! And I'm glad I was able to get that jar open, no matter how much pain went with it. And again, great poem.
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Anytime.
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Thank you for your wonderful comment x
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Thanks
x
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great!
... brilliant! I love the comparisions. Love and a pickle jar, it really gets me wondering. It's perfectly out of the box and is in my opinion a rather original idea. I love the wording and imagery, it played with my emotions a bit actually. Excellent job on this. Congrats on a great poem. -
Very nice write I loved it!!!!
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