“I know there is something larger than the memory of a dispossessed people. We have seen it.” from “Grace”, by Joy Harjo
Feelings
What I feel
often turns out
like a crude, unsuccessful story,
written by someone
I do not recognize.
Home
There is a place, home,
a mirror I look into,
no reflection, just pain asleep,
it is in a country I do not want to visit.
Future
Everything dims,
the present
isn’t what it used to be,
the future
will never be what it could have been.
A Full House
The body is a house with many rooms, full of moving air,
and all manner of shadow and shades.
There is secrecy behind curtains and doors,
but there are windows too.
The house vibrates with our ambitious endeavor, and its failure.
We pay a price, but there is revival also,
for the diminishing self, with its youth, and its age.
The body is a house with many rooms,
full of joy, full of pain, guilt and grace,
it is where we live, with our future, and all its remains.
Kirti said:
Incredibly beautiful 💕
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Ronald E. Shields said:
Thank you so much. I really appreciate you reading my poems.
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Kirti said:
You’re most welcome…keep writing…your words are beautiful.
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Bob said:
Really well done! I especially connect with “Feelings.” You touch upon something here that’s true.
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Ronald E. Shields said:
Thanks Bob, it is always good to be in touch with something true.
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Holly Lofgreen said:
Beautiful, and filled with melancholy.
I like especially ‘A Full House’, with its many rooms with “secrecy behind curtains and doors” (our cells?), and “windows too” (our eyes?).
And then the ending with the word “remains”.
So clever.
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Ronald E. Shields said:
Thank you Holly, I really appreciate you reading all this stuff.
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