Sympathy’s Role
Expressions of sympathy
are not made better by
poetic words
coined by unconnected humans,
nor are those any less valued
when received
Heartfelt words
written without grammar’s interference,
written on whatever is available,
whether a torn piece of paper
or a well worn tongue
are equally effective
in bringing voice to feelings,
And, for those
who have lost more
than we could ever replace,
we can not remove the silence
but we can do our best
to help them start the process
of allowing the roar
of smiles buried beneath tears
to one day crack the iced veneer.
MeeAugraphie
08/19/08
Our neighbor died last week. I wrote about how some human’s react to death here.
Stop and Regroup, aka, non-poetic version of where my head is right now is found on my everyday blog, which has become less than planned.
I suppose that post came about this way:
Today
I read a post that made me sad
I read a post that taught us much
I read a post that begged response
I throttled my need to help
I recognized her need to be herself
and though I recognize truth in what she said -
and though I saw our need to circumvent in her
that which we, ourselves, were not ready to face
I could not cannot will not accept as truth that she
has lost much of herself
in the process
for we cannot lose that from which we are
or were,
we can only lose that which we could have become
and with that conclusion I continued my silent
waiting for those feelings to
be absorbed by my subconscious
so they could come out later
and later is now and as I wrote the words above,
the following fell from within:
if maybe I was wrong in my interpretation
and that which she could have become
was in fact the herself she lost
and not the self she was
or is
as I first assumed
for we do not always become
the person we were meant to be
nor is that person always
the person we would want to be
MeeAugraphie
08/17/08
The Source
It is inanimate:
not gold
nor lined with silver
it is not imperative
nor irreplaceable
it is,
according to most
incapable.
of.
evoking.
emotions.
yet when it slipped from my hands and I reached for it and missed
I screamed, Noooooooooooo,
as if it were part of
me.
falling.
toward.
self-destruction.
It is only an
iPhone
it is not irreplaceable (if I win the lottery or something)
yet it represents
dreams.
unattainable.
finally.
reached.
the keeper of old dreams
my conduit to new dreams
held safe
until I let it slip between my fingers – all. by. myself.
MeeAugraphie
08/07/08
Note: Dropped twice in one day on tile floors… still works… Frustration was expected, but the welling of tears was not…
On Finding Yourself
Why your need to examine
hearts
minds
motivations?
Why must you find yourselves?
Have you no instincts?
Is not all revealed by your actions?
Perhaps, a necessity
because you ignore
that which is
so
very
very
often?
MeeAugraphie
08/06/08
Warning: Thinking out loud follows, in real time, and not always coherent thoughts:
Yes, I edited this a bit…Not happy with it, but the question is real. In the dark of night, I realized that because I rely so much on instinct, I have never understood when someone has said they have to go off to find themselves.
The poem I intended to write at that hour was to question the need to truly know ourselves or others… I felt we should instinctively know… not that one would always recognize, though, because they are so focused on the inner drive of other people, though, we will ever know more than what we are shown by their actions. So, why the second guessing?
I suppose I just revealed the flaw in my theory, perhaps it is merely because everyone is not instinctive to the same degree, they need to stop and look…
I suppose I do, too, I just don’t do it intentionally… I merely react to the emotions evoked by words and spill them on paper, like today.
