Lately, when the oven is opened
I see you under the rack;
you, with paint on your nose
window caulk frosting the beard,
hammers and ladders to the roof
a wrench in one hand
a pipe in the other, whose curling smoke
still signals presence in night air.
You get tangled in the kink
of garden tools that fall on my foot;
the sometimes lengthy silences
that yet web the tomato plants
and balk at my unfinished flowers.
Left with unfinished floorboard
and the broken lamp with little light,
you make your way in the ceiling
where below we once rocked our children
and listened to their talking dreams.
Most of all, it’s in the cellar
where you couldn't get that monster right;
you'd fight and curse the old metal
that threatened the warmth of our house;
where I stood at the stairtop screaming
that if there’s ever a day
I’ll not hear us fuss, it’ll be when
the switch doesn’t work at all
and you’ll have nothing left to do
but to walk right up ...
and work on us.
Zealberry © All rights reserved 2007
Author notes
drakothstheron
\
(Inspired by my friend whose marriage didn’t work
after over 30 years, and whose former husband died from
a heart attack yesterday. It was the furnace
that reminded her of him in spite of all that happened.
The longer time invested in something, the more
it becomes something 'else', no matter what the
formidable circumstances.
A contest entry
- Paint your picture in my mind_contest part one of four by drakostheron.
950 points, ended October 1, 2008, 24 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
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Love it!
You have some powerful imagery here and portray the feelings of frustration and bittersweet love so well. Love the ending...you'll have nothing left to do but to walk right up and work on us. Nicely done.
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So, the servicing of the furnace is a metaphor.
Okay. Better than most metaphors. (eee . . . italics again . . . in a flowerly type poem you can get away with it, but in this one . . . I don't know.)
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this is great... how we are left with the sense that we know who he was, know who they are, just from the things that filled his life and still hold a little of his breath in them. wonderful use of detail
"the kink
of garden tools that fall on my foot"
"Left with unfinished floorboard
and the broken lamp with little light"
and the final stanza... the call down the stairs ending with that startling, piercing line (i ♥ your ending)... wow.
i love the creative ways you describe some things
"and listened to their talking dreams"
but other times, the phrasing bugged me slightly.
"the sometimes lengthy silences
that yet web the tomato plants"- the placement of "yet" there isn't grammatically "wrong" probably (you know more about that than i do most likely), but i found it a little awkward when i read it. perhaps "still webs the tomato plants" or "webs the tomato plants yet"?
"you, with paint on your nose
window caulk frosting the beard"- "the beard" just seems a little odd to me, sticks out to me every time i read it. unless the emphasis and distance is intentional, perhaps the beard was a sore subject between them. otherwise, "window caulk frosted beard" might be smoother.
well, that's my two-cents. think its impressive how you managed to tackle something so complex, convoluted, so layers to this relationship. very well done. -
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Thank you for your honest response and suggestions. Always accepted and considered!
Had this not been for an awkward exit to someone's life and it being said as 'if' the X-wife was thinking it and didn't know how to verbalize, I would have polished sooner.
As it is, you've got some wonderful ideas, and I am always editing. I agree with your thoughts overall.
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Just a quick comment...
...once again, perceptive and full of the truth of the everyday. Places and objects become so tied to people and often it is these that hold our memories, not photos or stories.
Technically accomplished too- again, as with all your poems!
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i love it! its so clever and descriptive. what curious images. the title is fantastic- as soon as i saw it i knew i had to read this poem! keep up the good work!
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It is quite nice, with the idea of warmth as the metaphor, although I would have figured that out even if you hadn't mentioned it in the author's notes.
This just reminds me of my own family. Because I think the relationship between my parents isn't working out. It's been twenty years now, and it's been more than ten years ever since they ever thought of breaking up. So that's why this work is so special for me.
I couldn't say anything more, as I don't really know if I could improve this work, as it has pretty much crystallized already.
Keep writing!
- Nick (",) -
This was an interesting poem. It reminded me of my house cause we have so many unfinished projects and my dad just tries to get to them all but its always and on going thing never finished. Good job!
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Great
You have captured so much not only of a character but the everyday struggle to build, nurtured and maintain a family. The last line is very revealing, and I'm sure it's actually quite common after so many years to keep that fire burning. Great choice of details.
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Awwww,this one is so awesome.I loved this one alot.
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Really good write. This flowed so smoothly, nothing really stood out because it all meshed so perfectly. The metaphor was excellent and the imagery that all the descriptions created was very homey and felt really relational, you could feel the emotion but it wasn't overpowering. Good write and good job.
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This is such a beautiful poem and brings a lot of heart. I think you did a wonderful job.
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Thank you ever so much for reading and leaving a comment.
I hope you know this angst..
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