Wednesday, July 15, 2009

A sympathy tale

Hey girl, my pen’s run dry;
my ears are full. You’ve told your story,
cried your salt-sweet rain,
walked the whole great shoreline
seven times, looking for a door
out of today. Or yesterday, the days
that won’t recede, the taint, the smell
of must upon your clothes. You’re marked
as with the scent of feral cats;
the smile across your mouth
has no one fooled. Hey girl,
my pen ran dry, your story’s told.
There’s nothing more to do
but hang it high, hang it to dry
across the power lines, forgotten
like another sorry joke; a sweatshirt,
abandoned, holds no one’s soul.

Rachel Westfall
July 15, 2009

16 comments:

Kyddryn said...

Oh...sad...and hard, scratching words, love...

I know all about smiles that don't fool anyone...but not lately. Sometimes, they're the real deal...thank the Goddess...

Shade and Sweetwater,
K (one story ending, another beginning...)

Rikkij said...

Yes, Rachel. sometimes there's nothing left but to be hung out and let the wind and forces have their way. Straightforward. I like that. ~rick

Woman in a Window said...

Holy table thumping, heart wrenching powerful. I hear you here in more ways than one. More than two. Uncountable like sugar that needs no s at the end.

Michelle Johnson said...

I've met this girl many times. Fake smiles and all. Once things are dried out it can only look brighter. Good night~

Linda S. Socha said...

Rachael....a hard tale with sad edges and well done...starched and on the line...hung out to dry. You are a poet Ms. Rachael
Hugs
Linda

Ravy said...

something rather interesting about all of your written words Rachel...I can picture them so easily...almost like a music video but with poetry. When I read this ...it danced around in my brain. I want to say how I feel in a really artistic way to not take away anything from the experience but I can't..so you totally rock dude. Love Ravy

Crafty Green Poet said...

that is very sad, very lyrical too,

joaquin carvel said...

i know her too. i bet most of us do. i like how i can sense compassion as well as concession in this - the love is there, but so is the limit as to how much one can do. beautiful piece.

Poetikat said...

I can hear this as a song - a Seventies sort of song. It is harsh, but I like it.

Kat

Kit said...

This is a wonderful piece. Bravo!

namingconstellations said...

Same sentiment as Poetikat... if I had any kind of composing talent, I'd totally want to set this to music. Sounds kind of like Tori Amos, you should send it to her. :)

Karen said...

Love this, Rachel. I wonder if she's someone else or self?

fullonmommy said...

i really love how this is just straight up. it's kinda sad, but no hint of pity.
i'm gonna read it again.

SarahA said...

I am liking this, you. I am liking that I can hear such in my head and when reading her, she can be read in different ways.
I've known this girl.

christopher said...

A Singular Fate

I've been left alone.
I am the man they knew well,
nobody wanted.
They say, I am not
like you, not your kind, could not
ever be like you.
Then they sniff and snort,
they hem and haw, take themselves
away, leaving me
to my singular
fate.

RachelW said...

Kyddryn, I'm so glad your smiles are real, these days. :)

Rick, yep, sometimes you just need to let the wind and weather clean it all up.

Erin, thank you... and I'm glad it came across that way.

Michelle, agreed!

Linda, thanks, and hugs back at you!

Ravy :-) and you rock too, dear friend.

Crafty, thanks :)

Joaquin, yep, and sometimes I forget about those limits, try to do more, then get frustrated because it hasn't worked. Hence this poem-- a lesson to myself, maybe.

Kat, sweet!

Kit, thanks! Hey, we have Kit and Kat, hahaha! :)

Joseph, you are too kind, and what a lovely thought.

Karen, good question... it is other, but now you have me thinking. Haven't we all been on both sides?

Fullonmommy, thanks :)

Sarah, thanks, and much appreciated.

Christopher, you are something special, you are.