Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Ugh

The garden is full of stones.

The smooth patches, let’s call them happiness.
Delight, bliss, rapture even.

Lay here for a while, soak up some sun.
Feel it run through you, tingling,
the hiss of birdsong, the squawk of a leaky tap.

Thunk.

There’s one of those blessed rocks I warned you about.
Shouldn’t have let your head down so damn hard.

That’s what our soft spots are here for, isn’t it?
So we can hurt, bleed, crack open.

So you can see what’s inside,
our juicy, squishy pomegranate bits,
stone.
Not stone.

12 comments:

holly said...

yes...pomegranate seeds are like our vulnerable insides...nice

K.Lawson Gilbert said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
K.Lawson Gilbert said...

That’s what our soft spots are here for, isn’t it?
So we can hurt, bleed, crack open.

Fascinating!!
This poem is surreal and strangley wonderful.

Char said...

...and then to sprout and grow.

Lovely

Rikkij said...

Rach- must we always thunk our delight, bliss and rapture? things were going so well. Nice thoughts. ~rick

Woman in a Window said...

Oh, the pomegranate imagery is sooooo good. This is such a treat, even though there is some leaching of self into soil through injury. But now for the growing, right? Right? Now for the growing...oh, OH, and then for the reaping!

Aniket said...

I see Kaye has already expressed my exact thoughts. Loved that line. It alone can stand out as a complete thoughtful post.

Loved the complete poem too. :D You Rock!

Karen said...

Love the garden imagery - allusive to the Garden where a couple of people really should have used their heads! They traded "delight, bliss, rapture" for pain, blood, and cracking open.

Lisa said...

no sweetie, not stone at all xx

Crafty Green Poet said...

excellent, very vivid,

RachelW said...

Oh, thank you all! Now if only I could learn to avoid the stones. Why does the back of my head seem to seek them out?

Catvibe said...

Oooh, good one. Loved the 'thunk'. Loved the last line, not stone, really nice.