I have become a permanent fixture.
No longer seen. Ignored. Like the breath in your chest,
I’ll be unnoticed until I am gone.
Yes–I’m an old coat rack, a hall tree with deep
diverging roots beneath this splintered wooden floor;
hairline fractures mapping out and making a break
for freedom, covertly inching away , searching
for an oasis in the compacted backfill
that formed the foundation of this lonely house.
But there is no leaving.
The mud I carried in on the heels of my boots
Made fast friends with the companionless dust on this cold floor,
Made of the same stuff from a different beginning,
evidence of my past missteps mingling
with the consequence of your inertia and dead space.
Rooted and glued now. Unable to move for fear
of dying, for fear of uprooting the only home you have known.
And so here I will stay. Silent. Unblinking.
And tomorrow—
and every tomorrow–
I will be here, strangled by scarves, aching
under the weight of your plans for rainy days.
And I will watch you
pass me by, toss your hair
and walk out the door.
Out
into the sun.
August 26, 2009 at 1:26 am
This is so beautiful… The agony, and esctacy of a lingering presence… unnoticed, yet unfailingly, faithfully, rigidly present..
August 26, 2009 at 10:41 am
Yes, DL, I suppose there is a sort of ecstacy in it too, as we tend to become comfortable in our discomfort. Thank you.
August 26, 2009 at 2:50 am
Oh, man … this is so painful, Danielle, so agonized and tortured. Such a lament! So beautifully captures every unspoken neglect and every moment taken for granted. Fantastic work, if painful to read.
August 26, 2009 at 10:39 am
Thanks, Darc. It’s even more painful to watch. *sigh*
August 26, 2009 at 7:57 am
Perfect, frustrating, sad, familiar, and perfect.
August 26, 2009 at 10:39 am
Thanks J. 🙂
August 26, 2009 at 11:43 am
Miss,
I’m not sure how I’ve missed reading your work until now, but suffice it to say “Thank you”. This piece is beautiful; lets one define some of life’s darker lines.
August 26, 2009 at 11:51 am
Why, thank you Trapped! I’m so happy you came to visit! I see we are both fans of Jaymie:) Come again. And please, call me D. Or Danielle. Or whatever else you choose, but no need for Miss. (although I am utterly impressed and truly appreciate your politeness!)
We’re all friends here. Welcome to our little corner of the world 🙂
August 26, 2009 at 12:07 pm
With your words, you’ve beautifully captured a profound sadness. Thank you for sharing.
August 26, 2009 at 12:24 pm
Thank you Linda. “Captured” is so utterly relevant in this case. It’s very sad….
August 26, 2009 at 2:05 pm
This is excellent, Danielle. You should put a book together.
August 30, 2009 at 1:29 am
Paul, what a kind thing to say. Maybe someday I will, who knows what the future holds. Thanks for the vote of confidence 🙂
August 26, 2009 at 3:17 pm
very beautifully worded..
the agony just seeps through..
shraddha
August 30, 2009 at 1:30 am
Hi Shraddha! Thanks for stopping in. I’m always happy to see you 🙂
August 26, 2009 at 4:04 pm
Oh ouch! I have been that coat rack. Or more like coat wracked. Heh.
Lovely work hon – really captures that agony of feeling mute, unheard, ignored.
August 30, 2009 at 1:31 am
Heh–coat wracked..YES. Glad you liked this, Falcon. But you are too wonderful to be able to relate to this:)
August 30, 2009 at 4:56 am
Aww, you are too sweet. Honest. 🙂
But relate I can, indeed.
August 26, 2009 at 10:05 pm
Right up until the fourth line I thought you had finally written a poem about me.
Seriously, though, your poetry always makes me want to be a poet. But that’s about as reachable as me watching Olympic gymnastics and vowing to be one as I brush the potato chip crumbs off my shirt.
August 30, 2009 at 1:32 am
Tricia, you have me laughing out loud again. At least you brush the crumbs off. I eat them.
August 27, 2009 at 9:52 am
Aw.
The only thing that makes it less sorrowful is the beauty of the language; I really like “strangled by scarves” for some reason. Wonderful!
August 30, 2009 at 1:33 am
Thanks Joseph. I felt like that line needed to be there, so I’m glad you liked it too:)
August 27, 2009 at 5:08 pm
Such rich imagery… I also loved that line, “strangled by scarves.” You are so creative in the way you convey emotion. This was fantastic.
August 30, 2009 at 1:34 am
Thanks April 🙂 Happy to see you, as always!
August 27, 2009 at 9:15 pm
Sitting in church this Easter Sunday, my gaze happened upon a young couple, clinging together, shining their love for each other and I thought “young love.” But as I continued watching the crowd I saw couples of all ages doing the same thing. Later, standing up for a song, the crowd shifted aand I noticed a married couple that I knew and their body language struck a false note after what I had seen; they had the body language of two strangers that just happened to be standing next to each other and it seemed to me at that moment that all the passion of their marriage had been leached out, leaving in its place the connection of a piece of paper. This poem of yours feels the same to me. Good job. 🙂
August 30, 2009 at 1:35 am
Oh how sad, Bill. Unfortunately, it is all too common…
August 29, 2009 at 7:17 pm
You have caught the butterfly of desperation and displayed it expertly Danielle. The inertia and apathy you detail here is nothing short of emotional cancer. You are truly incredible Madame poetess.
August 30, 2009 at 1:36 am
Val! I’m smiling from ear to ear 😀 I am so glad you stopped in. I miss your Words, my friend. I hope you are doing well and just maybe, itching to get back to sharing your amazing talents with us. 😉
August 30, 2009 at 12:37 am
Danielle, this is amazing and beautiful, sad and heartbreaking and so touching. I hope you are well.
August 30, 2009 at 1:38 am
Thank you, Sara. I am well–was feeling a bit sad for a close family member when I wrote this, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed that things will work out in the end.
August 30, 2009 at 9:28 am
You write so beautifully, God will surely hear your prayer.
September 1, 2009 at 10:41 am
I’m back. Had to read it again. You write so lyrically, the words sing and float.
September 1, 2009 at 11:08 am
Sara, you’re a sweetheart. 🙂
September 1, 2009 at 3:59 pm
D – wow… this poem was wonderfully written. Beautiful. Sad. Conveying so well feelings that many, I’m sure, and myself, (unfortunately), are all too familiar with.
I love the part with the “hall tree” and it’s roots.. trying to seek out… and break out. Maybe someday… those roots find a way…?? under or over, or thru a crack in some wall… where they can sprout up from the ground… not forgetting the old hall or mud they left behind… but, where they can roam free… sprout up to the sunshine, and begin to grow a new sapling as well…
Too sappy? (pun intended) Sorry…. I get that way.
But, maybe….
just maybe…
possible?
I hope.
For my own sake as well as so many others.
September 1, 2009 at 5:36 pm
Hi Sam. I’m glad to see you, and thank you so much:) I hope those roots do find a way. We can hope.
And no, not too sappy;) Come back soon, and welcome to the fold;)