Post by ally on Jul 16, 2007 22:04:27 GMT -5
dishwashing
this is not the place for poetry -
in between the suds and grease
of yesterday's meals,
and nobody's mess.
taking a moment, at any time,
seems a chore
of conscience, or will,
of bodily strength.
reflecting on thoughts
too often drowned out
by noise, by life and all of the things
we do to put ourselves together.
we take our moments when we can,
ignoring their purpose
and making use of our work -
to clear our minds as we clean our plates.
(a poem that spontaneously errupted after doing the dishes following a particularly busy day)
this is not the place for poetry -
in between the suds and grease
of yesterday's meals,
and nobody's mess.
taking a moment, at any time,
seems a chore
of conscience, or will,
of bodily strength.
reflecting on thoughts
too often drowned out
by noise, by life and all of the things
we do to put ourselves together.
we take our moments when we can,
ignoring their purpose
and making use of our work -
to clear our minds as we clean our plates.
(a poem that spontaneously errupted after doing the dishes following a particularly busy day)