Saturday, December 6, 2014

December 6, 2014 The Sunday Whirl/Collecting Sea Shells

COLLECTING SEA SHELLS


the child in the cave             so tender                    alone in the haze

she traipsed about as if deranged              in those high heel shoes of her Mother’s

she would fling her cape around her                     as if for protection
                                                                                                from the cold

she sustained she posture for just so long             before she exchanged it for
                                                                        something more real

she dropped the chains                   that held her there

no longer the little girl                                  she was

she emerged                                      as the full grown woman
                                                                        that she had become

still there were times                                                she could become enflamed

the wounds still raw             seething                                             under the repairs

amazing how one carries                 it all                 never forgets

like the marks on the stones                                    burned in a fire so long ago

a history written                               never erased             shoved forward
thrown on the shore


December 5, 2014   







8 comments:

Sherry Blue Sky said...

How I resonate with "like the marks on the stones burned in a fire so long ago." How we do carry our history with us. Loved this one, Annell. I smiled at the little girl in high heels traipsing about "as if deranged."

Jae Rose said...

What a powerful piece Annell...I guess like a beach we are a mix of history and possibility...worn down but holding on tightly to the rhythm of the waves...I could picture that girl and the woman she became...i think she is quite brilliant xo

Magical Mystical Teacher said...

Dropping the chains is so important to becoming who we really are. Some of us manage to do it, and some of us don't. Thankfully, the protagonist of your poem is one of the former.

A Whirl with Benjamin

soulsmusic said...

Love this write, Annell. I believe you have found your signature stroke as a poet. This form forces the reader to speak it as it was written and that is not a small accomplishment. This is a Universal tale of Everywoman...

Elizabeth

Gillena Cox said...

I particular luv the ending, where the history although written in the sand becomes indelible from the the powers of the hands of the poet

Have a nice Sunday

Much love...

kaykuala said...

no longer the little girl she was
she emerged as the full grown woman

There will be the moment of life changing terms that govern the progress of the youngsters. Parents are the ones who need adjustments! Great lines annell!

Hank

Dr. kold_kadavr_flatliner, MD, the sub/dude said...

You're a writer? Cool shoes. Me, too (kinda, sorta). I know for a fact, however, you gotta whole lotta intelligence behind those two ears, girl; thus, I wanna give you my finite existence: to intrinsically value the Great Beyond which I’ve learned to appreciate, to visualize the fundamental reality of infinity is why I‘m here for a teeny-weeny amount of time. Looky here...

Precisely why I had our ‘philanthropic + epiphany’ (=so much to give + vision): wanna see a perfectly cognizant, fully-spectacular, Son-ripened-Heaven?? … yet, I’m not sure if we're on the same page if you saw what I saw. Greetings, earthling. Because I was an actual NDE on the outskirts of the Great Beyond at 15 yet wasn’t allowed in, lemme share with you what I actually know Seventh-Heaven’s Big-Bang’s gonna be like: meet this advanced, bombastic, ex-mortal Upstairs for the most juvenile-lip-service, ultra-groovy, picturesque-paradox, pleasure-beyond-measure, Ultra-Yummy-Reality-Addiction in the Great Beyond for a BIG-ol, kick-some-ass, party-hardy, robust-N-risqué-passion you DO NOT wanna miss the sink-your-teeth-in-the-smmmokin’-hot-deal enveloping, engulfing our catch-22-excitotoxins. Cya soon, girl…

gautami tripathy said...

Loved the end lines...

soulfully I stare at nothing