"You Come Into MY House?!?..."

"World Poetry Open Mic Presentation 29 August 2014"

This is both new and a partial add-in repost of mine from a long ago site.  On Friday the 29 of August, 2014 web-a-sode of World Poetry Open Mic, while I was listening to a Poet (Dennis - who is also here at WC) I was moved to shelf a piece I had intended to present and to write part of this and to re-remember the rest.  The title was aptly given by Michael Amidei while I waited to present this now “new” piece.

 

“You Come Into MY House?!?...”

 

Dennis - touched me…

brought my mind

to my heart and changed just

where

my focus fell.

 

I remembered

this - the depth of feeling

and the tears

that nurtured my

Lizbeth …Rose…

 

"MAKE Me Feel..."

 

K... it was said a Poet

can MAKE you feel.

Is it true?  Can a poet

force you to FEEL -

something that you hadn't felt

before

or maybe hadn't known

before

or something you didn't

or don't WANT to know or remember?

 

I need to give this THOUGHT a lot

more space…

 

Until then let me entertain you

with this one - while my mind

is away …elsewhere...

 

It's an old-growth rose bush

there - just a little to the right,

outside my window.

 

At the best of times …now…

it's sort of scraggly, twisted -

time and weather worn

with that windblown aging

only old-growth rose bushes get - ya know?

 

The original cuttings packet said

"Disease-resistant" - like us all,

and even the weather-zone faced

covered damn near anywhere at all.

But …only a couple grew…

the others died with barely a sprout or bud

to mark their presence and they darkened -

turned twiglike

and gradually eroded away.

Life does that - hangs heavy

and nothing's ever fair.

 

But this one - this ONE,

took off like a bat-out-a-hell…

swore she was wild and had a mind all her own -

it spread, meandered and rooted again

and again… seemed to just move itself

all over the damn place,

time and life DO that - ya know?

Kept cutting it back - didn't help

tried fencing it in - and it grew over

and through all the damn links!

 

Man what a B***H! …chuckling here -

but also what a rose -

the buds she held opened

and damn what a sight!

Hues you can't just believe

till you see them - and

a fragrance that floats and lasts

and just …lasts…

even in winter's memories.

 

And then came the year -

the blight found us

and 'Disease-Resistant' took on a new meaning

and I watched as we died in pieces

tried all that I knew

and all that I could

and still pieces withered and dropped away.

The bush shrank back and back

and further still into itself...

and somehow her life remained

hidden - seemingly confused.

The tendrils intertwined with themselves

and the buds got fewer and fewer

and when they opened - if at all,

were seeming ghosts of themselves

just a bare echo of once was.

 

But it’s like a friend now, ya know?

 

You can love echoes

for the beauty you saw

and still see within...

and you can close your eyes

and remember all the …hues…

and the fragrance might be less lasting

but it’s still as sweet as ever was.

 

I won't let go…

Won’t let her go…

won't dig her out

and toss us away.  We earned the right

to be right THERE - just a little to the right

as I look out my window - coffee cup in hand

awaiting to see this year’s buds - cautiously open

and the petals touch the sun, feel the wind,

and glow again.  My 'Lizabeth' Rose.

 

Chris

Author's Note

feel free

An aside - we personify in many of our writings ... even I'm guilty. I have better defined the original I presented to more clearly reflect my original intent.

Serious illnesses and injuries - unto death - are NOT rare and we all know people deeply touched (even ourselves). Sometimes a reader listens and sometimes well, people are busy with their own moments.

Reviews

[olla]

I won't let go…
Won’t let her go…
won't dig her out
and toss us away. We earned the right
to be right THERE - just a little to the right
as I look out my window - coffee cup in hand
awaiting to see this year’s buds - cautiously open
and the petals touch the sun, feel the wind,
and glow again. My 'Lizabeth' Rose.

this is the part I love the most.. we really don't see from the inside out.. all the things we need to make us thrive.. and we don't always recognize that the investment we make in the survival of another life can create bonds.. like the twining of a rose shoot that wraps around our hearts and gives us a reason to check in from time to time.. if only to reaffirm our own survival.. and perhaps "Lizabeth" Rose hangs on just as dearly for that moment when you come by for a visit..

[Chris]

Life as we live it... thought-full-y.

[Stephany]

more than a rose...this could be the story of people or maybe just one person, that if we are fortunate, we have been gifted to have in our life. The resilience pours forth and again, if we are fortunate, onto...into us.

[M.E.Lyle]

One of the things I truly loved about this piece is how you personified the old rosebush. I see a rebellious spirit in this one. She fought back when the others gave up and withered away. Not fences or any other obstacle stood in her way. She was the defiant one, high spirited, and l vivacious.
The two of you passed through a period of time together and in so doing, became a part of each other.
I suppose we're all a lot like that old rosebush.
When I was younger I used to put on my running shoes and step out into the foulest weather possible. My mustache froze once. It was a joy I cannot explain. Today I sit on my couch cuddled up in a warm blanket and listen as the cold winds blow by.
I miss those old days and challenging mother nature.
Love your work.

[Chris]

I appreciate you pausing and the thoughts expressed.

[Crowley]

This is like a tome on the reality of attachment and understanding. As in the fist part of this wonderful piece, you have forced the hand, but only to those who have the propensity to read or listen in the first place. But saying that, those that do, many times spread that feeling in other ways that less emotionally conscious can understand. The winding down of the once wild and lively seems natural enough, but in the withering we see ourselves I think, everything that we want to identify with, that we have identified with, is changing. Love grows at that point, maybe into something different, maybe not, but I believe it grows and gives us a peak into the cosmos. Sorry just babbling on...I really enjoyed this piece.

[Chris]

You babble well and with intent... chuckling here. Good seeing you again.

[Gypsy Warrior Queen]

The cafe is filled with love this morning and here I have stumbled on it yet again. This is a write full of mastery and grand perception with marvelous intent and even grander ability. Bravo Chris!

[Chris]

It was nice of you to pause and share your thoughts. Come by anytime.

[...]

Chris, I've read this before, a few times, and I find myself here again. This time I'm strong enough to leave a review...foe I can "love the echoes for the beauty I saw and still see within and I can close my eyes and remember all the...hues...and the fragrance might be less lasting, but it's still as sweet as it ever was" This was so deeply moving, it made me cry the first couple of times I read it. I read it this time and smiled. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me, dear poet

[Pryde Foltz]

You can love echoes
for the beauty you saw
and still see within...
and you can close your eyes
and remember all the …hues…
and the fragrance might be less lasting
but it’s still as sweet as it ever was.

Somewhere in your mind the past does exist …. love allegory of this piece, Chris.

[LadyAnn68]

Interpretation of this one will take some doing but as I read it several times I got the ethereal view of the sad ness and yet the loving memory of emotion welled up in ones throat. Beautiful flow and imagery as well. Bravo for this one Chris....

[MrsBear]

I love the flow of this poem. The name "Lizabeth" reminds me of the girl with the Dragon Tattoo. And the use of dialogue, it is just really lovely. Great Job. (:

[Chris]

Thank you for pausing with me... I hope you find you want to return... It was a very compelling and thought-full story her Trilogy told.

[MrsBear]

Yes, and I will return. (:

[Chris]

P.S. - Cookie is a love... saw him(?) in the live feed...

[MrsBear]

Yeah its a she. Shes my lovebug, but can be really sassy. Just released a new writing today.....

[Chris]

I look forward to seeing it

[Heather]

This is beautiful, this is poetry at it's best. The vivid imagery, the feelings. The fact that everyone can connect, can interpret in different ways still amazes me. You welcomed the reader, guided them down this personal path. Sometimes reality is harsh, but what would life be without it's ups and downs? who would we be? We lead the way, each mistake, each moment makes us who we are. You really captured the essence of life to the limit. Forever isn't a measurable amount of time so technically it ceases to exist. This poem really leads me to the conclusion that whether you are a direct or indirect realist, it doesn't matter because we are all beautiful and so is life. Maybe freedom is everywhere, we are just blinded by the society of today so we can't see it. We are alive, so we might as well have happy moments while living, the little things matter too. Great job :) sorry for rambling.