20050716

Mud

It was the mud I spose
Strange what a bit of dirt
Could make you think
He knows I don't like the stuff
That's how I knew my floor
Is always smooth and clean
And smells pine fresh.
His boots bounced their remains
rattling across. I felt
assaulted-horrified
But then he wanted to get out
Before I had the time to ask
Normally so quiet. I sometimes
Wonder what he thinks about

The next day I found him
In the shed. He'd a look
About him then
Haunted but more than that
like he was totting up
the next time
That he could take a breath.

Then there was the shirt
New it was. Stuffed in a can
Under a pot. The dark brown marks
Took some getting out
I wonder what he thought
When he found it
Hung and pressed

Someone did come as it was
Got biscuit crumbs
All over the couch
Asked a lot of strange questions
Said I don't know what he does
Except make a mess
We've lived like that
For years. I keep a good clean
House. Then I vacuumed round
His feet. Just to make the point
Till he took the hint
And dropped it in the cup.

They took him the next day
Sirens flashing
All the curtains twitched
So I took to cleaning up
Outside. With such an attach
Of suds and raw hands
I felt better after that

12 Comments:

Blogger Patry Francis said...

So much emotion and experience compressed into the space of a poem. This one bears rereading. I'll return.

5:22 PM  
Blogger gulnaz said...

anger, hurt, shock, numbness...there is so much in this! a feeling of being caught up in something which one is constantly trying to get away from.
brillant work!

10:04 PM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Patry, Gulnaz, thankyou for your kind words. I was kind of thinking about what it must be like to be caught up in events beond your controll. To be as much a victim as the victims, on top of which is all the stigma that goes with it of which a part I'm sure must be denial.

7:13 PM  
Blogger amiethinggoes said...

is this what you feel or how you are right now or just a product of your talented poetic soul?

10:09 AM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Amie just my muse but in light of all that has happened these are thoughts that occured to me. My house is definately neither tidy or neat, (I prefer writing to many things I should do instead) my spouce a soul mate, but but for the grace of god there could walk any of us.

11:39 AM  
Blogger iamnasra said...

True ...this is poetry need a rereading..it tend to have abstract theme in it...yet you grasp into a number of images that unfurl emotions...I will visit again to read it and see how I feel about reading your poem again...

keep up writing

7:50 PM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Iamnasra thank-you it is abstract but it is the place we all occupy outside of the minds and deeds of others good or bad

Gama please do and I will do the same if that's OK

9:21 PM  
Blogger Lorena said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

10:59 PM  
Blogger Lorena said...

very interesting poem, really makes you think. i agree with iamnasra, very abstract.

10:59 PM  
Blogger S.L. Corsua said...

His boots bounced their remains
rattling across. I felt

Till he took the hint
And dropped it in the cup.


Beautifully enigmatic lines. ^_^ Intriguing imagery, too. The third stanza sent a shiver down my spine... it reminds me of how silence can evolve into something volatile. Hmm... I'm grinning. I love this piece. ^_^

2:42 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Found my way here from Gama's site - so glad I did. I love this poem - the use of words such as "spose" - perfect for this poem. I will definitely be back!

8:36 PM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Hi Jade P thank-you, come anytime

8:56 PM  

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