Show me (Day 59 of 100 -- Poetry challenge).
Please show me how to let you go
Is it like taking the trash out
or scooping a litter box
Should I wear gloves
How many times you must have
washed your hands
to be so free
from the fear
of contamination
This longing has never let up
you make it look so clean
but I see wear
from all the scrubbing
The dulling luster
The dry spots
The darkening
Don’t worry though
I’ve covered my tracks
and got a new manicure
But there is always dirt
under my nails
a bit of you that remains
no matter what
I do
So please
share your secret with me
Show me how to let you go
All pieces are newly crafted and posted shortly after in adherence to the rules of the challenge. All the photos are mine unless otherwise stated.
Entry for Day 59 of 100 Days of Poetry Challenge by @d-pend.
Join the Steemit School here: https://discord.gg/yZvYjfM organized by @dobartim on Discord.
I see the how It ends me up
And how your love it melts me,
But where to find, the strength, shall I.
To leave away from [near you].*
*or: [you now.]?
Branching from your first line and inspired from this song in Greek.
And now I’m going to use this song for a Steemit challenge...
Thanks.
There you go getting me into one of these chain thingies...ha.
I will have more time to play along later this week. I love the translation of this song, thank you for putting it on my table. :)
:) you don’t have to do it. I just picked you because your post inspired me to start it. I wouldn’t have probably otherwise. Sorry for the non poetic response.
I may play along though... ;)
First of all, before I forget. I'd like the full version of this photo. The vivid hues... this looks like a glam shot, and I'd like the full version :3
This piece makes me wonder. Could he teach you how to let him go? If he's still got his hooks in you, then why will he be capable of teaching you how to let go? This makes me think that this wish is one born out of a misunderstanding.
Because the one spoken to never let go. What he can teach is how to appear as if one doesn't care.
I mean, it could be that this longing and holding onto is one-sided, but since this person has had quite a few pieces dedicated to them, then I don't think it's true.
Also, this "fear of contamination" is the fear of attachment. The fear of being hued or touched by someone else.
Learning to let go is one thing, but it's possible that all this other person could teach you is how to be closed. And being closed is not the same as letting a particular person go - it's binary, an all or nothing affair.
And if you close yourself to the world, you end up closing yourself to yourself as well.
Can't get "contaminated," can't, as you put it here, get dirt under your nails.
Can't get patina to cover you.
Can't let hurt in, but also not love.
And thus, you block out art, and life, and everything that makes life worth living.
And if we speak of it, then so many poems of washing your hands clean of this person. Of more than one. And yet, it is because it's not easy to let go. Of others. Of ourselves we see in them, and of ourselves we used to be, and of the current selves they taught us to be, even if with rods and scorpions, and lashes and blood.
And as you know, it's all a lie anyway. "Wear" is another way to speak of contamination, of patina, that comes from within. We can't keep the world out.
Especially not when we put so much dirt out there, on other people.
And this person, they don't let go. Not of anything.
If anything, it's you that needs to teach them, how to let go of themselves, and rebuild themselves.
Which is another topic you keep returning to. One that seems to hew closer to reality, rather than to the wish of the easy life. Those that take rarely give, let alone give in, about giving up on others, whom they have their manicured claws in.
Absolutely remarkable. I love your writing style. :)
:: blush :: Thank you. :)
A very relatable write for me , Mamadini. We revisit the past in hope we can change what happened. I have always had to be pretty stern with myself and just not allow my thoughts to wander there but then they do and write a poem:)
I only wander there as a means of release, or even just fodder for art. The deeper the cut the longer it takes for me to get around to "seeing" what happened.
Thank you, dear. :)
Beautiful poetry, I was impressed and I finished reading it
Thank you kindly. :)
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