in the days when the mornings aren't simple
when coffee tastes bitter despite the
four spoons and cream
(it looks heavy like the long lasting night
one that does not ask for coffee and refuses a soft pillow)
in those days with the sunlight blocked by blinders
i try to figure out
why the pain eases
but never leaves for good
as everything else does
and seek for the answer in the dark liquid
on the empty wall which shelters my shadow
but find it when i finally let a salty drop
add a taste of my past to my coffee
realizing the pain does not consume me
and it comes from a place i don't want to remember
but which isn't yet forgotten
Comments
1 - 23 of 23
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This is deeply introspective. I really was caught up in the scene and experienced the thoughts as I was looking into the cup of coffee. This has a stark feel to it--the image of the shadow is stark and telling. I enjoyed this very much.
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Hey Mari, its beautiful! I love each line, and all the things that lay in between...
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Hugs...
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Very poignant, I loved the lines,
"why the pain eases
but never leaves for good
as everything else does"
very powerful stuff on emotional philosophy and I liked your take on it at the end, a nice perspective,
"it comes from a place i don't want to remember
but which isn't yet forgotten"
There is a dark/light dichotomy at the heart of the human experience and this is not to be fought but understood. We each need to find peace with our own shade of grey.
Thanks for the read mari, as always.
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I wish I could applaud your thought.. Let me try *applause*
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Thankyou
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Ah thank you Glitch for the wonderful comment and comprehension of the poem
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bitter and sweet
they intertwine
as past meets now
within the mind
spirits sprung
from one thought graves
to give again
their solemn wave
a tear is felt
cascading down
as lost again
once more is found
but change I can't
for past is fixed
So emotions stir
within its mix
Hugs...Eddy
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Excellent poem Eddy, thank you
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The words seem to slip under the coffee,
sink to the bottom under the "four spoons and cream,"
then, surface boldly, seeing the light of a new day.
Sending hugs and stevia to sweeten the mood,
(It's still flourishing in the patio garden!)
M-C
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I feel this too Mari...this is very deep
in the days when the mornings aren't simple
when coffee tastes bitter despite the
four spoons and cream
(it looks heavy like the long lasting night
one that does not ask for coffee and refuses a soft pillow)
I love this part.
yes,
sometimes it takes us awhile to wake up, stretch and yawn at life...
Anna Lee
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Mi querida hija,
I'm sad to see you suffer pain.
Has someone whom we shall not name
been wearing recently again
cheerleaders' gear that is to blame?
Or did you accidently drop
instead of sugar in your cup
four heaped-up spoons of table salt?
A bitter taste would sure result.
Our memory can play false tricks
avoiding what we want to fix
but constantly recalling yet
stuff we are trying to forget.
Eluding longings is much harder
when unfulfilled as in saudade.
A beautiful piece of nostalgia, my daughter, even with the metaphoric allusion to your coffee!
May sweet tastes soon return to your lips.
Dios te bendiga mi cariño.
Mucho amor, abrazos y besos XOXOXO el padre.
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Mari, this is one of those "close to the bone" feelings, and I think I have spent most of my life there. Then, somehow, battle-weary, I found I no longer had the strength to try to "overcome" the painful memories. Instead they seemed to consume me, leaving only a charred skeleton. And somehow this skeleton began to re-grow meat and nerve. And now the pain is different, a memory of a different me. It no longer burdens or consumes, but guides, having shown me the reasons why. Somehow the path is clearer, the memories packed and stored aren't blocking my view.
But still this: "realizing the pain does not consume me
and it comes from a place i don't want to remember
but which isn't yet forgotten"
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What the candy bar guy said...
Glad to read those last lines. It makes me feel a little better,
And as far as not wanting to remember...for me that is anything that happened before noon of the current day.
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Oops, wrong suit.
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Our friend Rebeka would be proud of you. I hope she is well. She had a collection of poems which dealt with spoons (and I suppose other utensels) I used to joke with her about them but the poems were good, reflective, honest looks at her world, her emotions, much like your poem...there's a little of that saudade in this memory of mine.
If you'll allow me this: I sometimes sense (if that is possible) that feeling emanate from you...but being prone to the assumption that folk are sad in general I sometimes am not sure what is genuinely yours and what is simply of my creation.
I sometimes feel sad for you but I don't want to discuss it because you'll just think I'm being insincere and I don't want what I think demeaned.
Most things you write, whether you admit it or not, has a grain of truth to them...more than an ounce of real you. Like every writer worth his salt you sometimes use that as a base to then create a fiction...but it's still a measure of that truth...some times it's beautiful and sometimes it's grotesque...what I mean is...it's exaggerated sadness, but it's always based on a basic truth.
And no, there is no truth in any of my wild half-human hotdog stories.
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You are the one I learned what Saudade really means from...
This is beautifully heartbreaking... "it comes from a place I dont want to remember, but which isnt yet forgotten"
It's amazing how something can linger even when we put it to the back of our minds.
Your words bring a beautiful ache to my heart...
so nicely done,
Criss -
vividly sad sweet mommer
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I love the last 3 lines, and relate...this has vivid imagery, you worded this feeling, this moment perfectly & creatively
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Such a moving piece this is, Mari..it's a place we've all been to at some point in our lives. They say that when you can think of something or someone without that "salty drop", then you are healed...I agree with PK - he said it so very well. Loved the gentle voice here...
~ Nicolette
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Nicely done. I enjoyed the tone and rhythm of this piece as well as the imagery you created.
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the power to heal is within us and the will to remember too, and somewhere there is a valley in between where we can lay softly down, finding peace; finding the pillows...powerful and deep feeling here of saudade... h
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