Thursday, December 08, 2011

Orange It's Time?

Thank you Marja



I peel off the parts that don't fit anymore

And carry them.

I might want them back some time:

maybe when the winds blow

I will want my leaden feet

to hold me in place, no cause to roam.

Maybe if the smoke alarm sounds

I will welcome the way I cover my face

and stop breathing until I'm home again.

Maybe I may even reclaim the way I shake my head

when I fail to understand, no sense of any of it.

But not now.

Now, lighter serves me better.

My skin's exposed,

I could be scorched.

But much better to be peeled from the outside

Than from within.

13 comments:

  1. My hoe is that eventually you will find that you can set them aside and not even worry that you may need them again.

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  2. Like clothes taking up space in a small closet:
    If they don't fit anymore, you don't need them.
    Toss.
    Yes you can,,,,


    Wonderful writing, by the way.

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  3. I love this!!! I think we do sometimes think we should shed aspects of ourselves .... and yet we cling on to them for all sorts of reasons.

    The bit about preferring to be peeled from the outside than from within is particularly well observed. The anguish of self inflicted pain is no less than that inflicted by others ... sometimes more so ... although the question remains as to why one would do such a thing, and to what purpose.

    Huge hug, xx Jos

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  4. But much better to be peeled from the outside

    Than from within.
    (amen) xxxx

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  5. I like that poem yes I do.

    And I LOVE the peeled orange. Love it

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  6. Love your poem, kj. And maybe we grow a new skin. :) xox! Pam

    PS Laptop should arrive TODAY! HO HO HO!

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  7. lovely picture and poem.
    Having a good time here with felix! Tomorrow we will fly home already!
    Can you believe that?!
    Will show you pictures and tell stories soon......

    <3 M & F

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  8. thats a beautiful poem KJ. you are so good with words and concepts. the orange reminds me of a Louise Bourgeouis (the sculptor) film. she peels an orange as she tells a story about her father. it is sad actually what he did with the orange and then she too as she showed us.

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  9. Which end is his butt--or would a psychologically healthy person have asked, which end is his face?

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  10. Very very powerful, kj. What a poem! I am so in the mood to stop clinging to parts of my past, especially the physical collections representing days/years when they mattered to me. They do not anymore and I am surrounded by the enemy!

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  11. KJ,

    It looks like me carrying this bloated belly around! (sans clothing of course....)
    Lovely words!

    Love~~
    Anne

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