I opened my closet
sorries came tumbling out.
Too many stored for years
there just aint no doubt.
They push against the walls
and bulge the closet door.
Don't think there's a spot
to store not even one more.
Look, there's that one
promised to meet in Atlanta.
Drove from Chattanooga, a no show
Felt like a rotten banana.
But, she didn't forget the sorry
oh no, she sent me plenty to use.
Made not a damn bit of difference
still got angry and had the blues.
And you, dear, got your sorry too.
All that braggin bout lusting for me
yet when I arrived early in Portland
at the door kissin him, passionately.
I threw many in the trash can
but you kept sending those regrets.
Told you can stop but they keep coming
as if you owed me some sort a debt.
And you, my friend, told you at the start
someone esle had a tight hold on my heart
but you needed the drama to be for real
sent sorries cause we remain far apart.
All these damn sorries are going out
to be dumped in the trash for good.
Don't know why I kept so many
never gave a damn nor understood.
But if you were really sorry
why send so many over to me.
You'd do better to change your ways
and live life more peacefully.
As for me. No more sorries at all.
Never again let them pile up like this.
From now on when I am in need
off I go to a visit to Poetic Bliss.
Del Cano 2005 Dec
10 comments:
Blessings to you too hon'...and if you ever get to Atlanta again, you'll not encounter rotten bananas here. We have an ever revolvong and open door here...and a bedroom on the main floor should your love accompany you.
Just one more thing to say on this
I know the term "poetic bliss"
Like you, I rhyme right from the start
It all comes spilling from my heart
I write immediate with no pretense
Tell my self, "I'm just like Spence!"
Though I know your path, it hurts
From Pain's well we quench our thirst
If not for struggles that we bare
Then poetry would come from...where?
As I lay quiet in my bed
A laden thought jumped in my head
Poignant beauty bleeding through
Our scars and bruises in plain view
Would never mean or ever reach
The loving poet meant to teach.
Celeste December 2005
;) C. http://journals.aol.com/gdireneoe/thedailies
Oh Dear , reminds me of something from the past. Hit a heart string you did or maybe it was guilt either way I felt this one deep.
'morning Spencer,
oh..I know exactly what you mean. yap..that's it for me too! lol..
you take care always,
Gem :)
I opened my closet
sorries came tumbling out.
Too many stored for years
there just aint no doubt.
Thank you for reminding me I have my own closet to clean out. This poem really provided me with food for thought. I put you on alerts and will certainly be back again.
Best Wishes,
Dianna
http://journals.aol.com/sazzylilsmartazz/TheHellaciousHereticGoesAMuse-in/
The sorries should not be sorries
For they are Lifes memories
Yet piled high on mowhills
With wishes and diamond sprinkled truffles.
The closet can be your own storage
For great trinkets and lost items titled "Courage"
Grab each one in your hand at your own pace
Rumage through the pieces that made your heart race.
Only be sorry for letting the boat split in half down the river.
Especially when every strain of your being wanted to quiver
And journey in warm liquid blue
Looking at sorries of.... I didn't touch you.
Dedicated to the poem "Sorry"
by Renee'
Very excellent responses! Sorry I couldn't be more eloquent. There's that word again! Another word, reqret...I think we all have a huge dusty bundle of "sorries" and regrets that need to be swept of cobwebs. You used an excellent metaphor here for letting all life's "sorries" pile up in a "closet" that needs a good cleaning out. This was a very interesting write, and one that makes one thinki. Great write, Spencer!
Those of us of a "certain age" knew all too well the piling up of regrets. I got such a visual image of this bulging closet...it almost turned into Fibber Mckee's closet! Very well written poem....enjoyed it....Sandi
you go, sweetie ... *sighs* ... who needs the xtra baggage, 'eh?
luvvin you, givin' you the hugs
sue
i love how you incorporate "poetic bliss" throughout your poetry ... so beautiful, doll ..
sue
To the Poet Spencer
An Ode to the Sadness
I watched him on the hill
Someone had hurt his heart;
It was bleeding still
As he strood up
He went off to yonder Mill
And shuffled quickly
As if, by doing so,
He could forget her treacherous pace
Ah Spencer I do see your woes
They leap up behind you
Like leacherous vines
Determined to crush you
In their wake
Ah Spencer ; do walk on
The courage and the kindness
that that takes
Will serve to buttress
Our weary souls.
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