IT STILL HURTS
Dark closets with doorways where one leads to another
Bring up a lot of memories of an institution and my mother
(And the sunshine lighting up a corner through a tiny window screen).
That is where I came from, but I filled my closets with toys.
My closets were restaurants where I'd meet all the boys.
That little ray of sunshine, it made my life like bliss.
I'd call myself Susanne and wave and blow a kiss.
But the closet had a rifle and the men were made of smoke
And I used up all my gunpowder and made the room explode.
I guessed my magic powers would make the world go wild.
Either that or years later, I would abandon my only child.
(There I was, abandoned, living in a house of hate).
It still Hurts
Thanks Elizabeth. My heart was just soaring because of your compliments and Makera's as well. I didn't mean to sound childish or like I was trying to be slight. I was just feeling so enthralled by the fact that they had that much of an effect on someone, anyone at all. Especially people who don't even know me! Thanks again, Bonnie.
Still Hurts
Sweet Bonnie~
I thought you may appreciate some of Emily Dickinson's poems that speak from knowing how it feels:-
"It is easy to work when the soul is at
play --
But when the soul is in pain --
The hearing him put his playthings up
Makes work difficult -- then--
It is simple, to ache in the Bone, or the
Rind --
But Gimlets -- among the nerve --
Mangle daintier -- terribler --
Like a Panther in the Glove --"
c 1861
"There is a pain -- so utter --
It swallows substance up --
Then covers the Abyss with Trance --
So Memory can step
Around -- across -- upon it --
As one within a Swoon --
Goes safely -- where an open eye --
Would drop Him -- Bone by Bone."
c 1862
~Makera
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I like a look of Agony,
Because I know it's true --
Men do not sham Convulsion,
Nor simulate, a Throe --...."
c 1861 Emily Dickinson
I thought you may appreciate some of Emily Dickinson's poems that speak from knowing how it feels:-
"It is easy to work when the soul is at
play --
But when the soul is in pain --
The hearing him put his playthings up
Makes work difficult -- then--
It is simple, to ache in the Bone, or the
Rind --
But Gimlets -- among the nerve --
Mangle daintier -- terribler --
Like a Panther in the Glove --"
c 1861
"There is a pain -- so utter --
It swallows substance up --
Then covers the Abyss with Trance --
So Memory can step
Around -- across -- upon it --
As one within a Swoon --
Goes safely -- where an open eye --
Would drop Him -- Bone by Bone."
c 1862
~Makera
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I like a look of Agony,
Because I know it's true --
Men do not sham Convulsion,
Nor simulate, a Throe --...."
c 1861 Emily Dickinson
Dear Makera, I find synchronicities interesting and pay attention to them. I have "There is a pain so utter..." on my desktop. I used to have it typed out and taped to a real desk at another place. And here we are on the LC board.... Kurt Vonnegut invented the "wampeter." I forget which novel it was in, but a wampeter is something around which groups of people revolve. I suppose another way of seeing it would be with Venn circles because of the way the wampeters would constantly change and make new intersections. Anyway, it's nice to meet someone to whom this particular poem speaks.