The Vase

                        The Vase

there on the shelf of my best pronouncements

polished purple and pink

a rose so to speak

warm bodies in the house 

can't contain the empty cold

quiet browns inside 

stained with rag doll morals and attar

dusting politely the

water marks

waterfall streaking

water falls like cotton

quietly 

 ...................................................................................

E.

10/13/2019

Author's Note

Reviews

[R.E. Ray]

E., my great grandmother had a similar vase in her living room. I remember it was fine China with intricate colorful artwork, and someone had broken it years earlier. I recall the cracks, the faint dried glue ooze, and yet I never looked inside. I think it might've been her mother, Lettie, who died during the 1919 influeza epidemic. This memory is from the 1970s, so the images are blurry now. Still, your poem and the photo took me back to that place and time, much like what you've described here, "where water falls like cotton... quietly." This poem touches the heart and time, and that makes it extraordinary.

[Einstein Noodle]

oh God bless your Great Great Gramma! how precious to hold even faded memories like that R E! our heritage .. always has cracks and brokenness in it ... we wouldn't be human otherwise me thinks .. i am feeling pretty good this touched you so my friend ..thank you so much for taking time ..and for sharing this bit of your history ... wow 1919 influenza epidemic .. going to go a-googlin' on that .. peace brother!
E.

[Cherrie]

I have items in the house just like you have expressed. Where the essence of those lost to me remain. Slowly I have given some of those things to family. The danger in that is if I can't let it become the actual item that it is, and no longer some little piece of me. Because then I could be disappointed in those I give it to, my true treasures have no value but to my memory, but the real gift is those who I give it to.

[Einstein Noodle]

boy do i hear that Cherrie ..and thanks so much for taking a wander about me pages :) yes .. our memories held in simple things are hard to give away ... the person must be the right one for sure. thank you for sharing my friend!
E.

[adornoscousin]

I think there is so much poetry in the everyday things of our lives. We take these for granted (vases etc). But they are there and they are a visual and spiritual record of our lives if only we know how to tap into them. And I think a poem like this does just that- taps into this spiritual record.

[Einstein Noodle]

yes yes yes Cousin! i think they are .. trinkets that we have emotional and spiritual connections with .. i think especially of my Grand Mother .. i have many of her and my Grandfathers "stuff" ... those things deepen my roots even now as i speak of them .. thanks you so much for meandering down me pages ...i appreciate the extra time that takes .. and thank you for your encouraging and insightful review .. peace and love my friend!
E.

[Betty Hermelee]

the broken pieces of the "rose" vase is a perfect metaphor for your feelings: "brown stains", some darkness in your life It seems like things haven't been touched in the house for a while..."dusty" "cold" which also reflects your inner self. I think a very telling piece, short, but profound. GREAT!

[Einstein Noodle]

so fine to be getting to know each other poem by poem eh!? thank you so much for taking time to read and share your responses ... its important you know :) so many know the vase this speaks to ... something picked up in a Thrift Store .. more often one of Gramma's inherited ... we do have darkness don't we .. love how you put that .. things from the past that aren't necessarily "pretty" ... but we keep them .. up there on the mantle ;) love and peace Betty ... right here at the Cafe'
E.

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

I have a few of my late mums old vases they bring back the scent of my youth I can smell the musty scent of roses or Xmas bush gone by sitting on a sideboard or dining table with us all sitting much younger all around thanks for this superb poem loved it

[Einstein Noodle]

isn't it strange how so many have such vases in place on mantels, window sills, with such memories attached ... thanks so much as always for your visits and your impressions .. peace and joy!
E.

[Ken Simm.]

Taking description quantum stages further. Zen and the beautiful vase. I like it... A lot.

[Einstein Noodle]

i think we are connected Ken ... not surprised you would go to Zen ;) love on ya brother! Happy Thanksgiving if you do celebrate it ... peace and joy!
E.

[andrew mitchell]

Those fragments signify so many memories be it cracks or chips, a history either way in its presentation.

[Einstein Noodle]

yep ... even in pieces memories remain a whole picture .. really happy for your visit sir! thanks for reviewing too!
E.

[Cassie]

I love how poets can write about practically everything and pass whatever message with anything, here this vase has brought out such a warm sweet poem that speaks of love

[Einstein Noodle]

i do too Cassie .. it is a marvelous way to get all kinds of things from inside the noodle and inside the heart .. out :)))))))) really glad to stopped to read this one ... thank you for sharing your thoughts on it!

[Intothemilkyway]

I loved it how you wrote this poem.
It's very beautiful.
Full of love and descriptive.
It totally says everything you wanted to say about the title " The Vase ".

You are good with words too, just like you said to me.

[Einstein Noodle]

:) ............ thanks for taking time Ms. Milky Way! glad you enjoyed!
E.

[Fran Marie]

O h my..yes this is a heartwarming piece containing such sweet memories..we form affectionate attachments to certain things ..this vase as lovely as a rose holds so much more from bygone years..lovelingly penned poetry E..

[Einstein Noodle]

hey Fran! yes! we all have them don't we .. in one form or another ... thank you for your kind support my friend!
E.

[Fran Marie]

you re welcome

[AYVID N]

Quite a picture it must make, that vase, as pretty as a rose. Your words reflect your pride and attachment to the vase that must be bringing on such precious memories of the past. Such beloved possessions, though stained, though worn and cold, never fail to comfort and soothe us through the rough grind of life.

I was brought up by my grandmother E and I have her old, four-poster bed from the 1940s when she was young. As a baby, my first conscious moment was in that bed and I hope to have my last one there too.

You touch such a chord here. Thanks for sharing a special part of your life.

[Einstein Noodle]

oh my Divya ... i feel quite honored this brought those precious memories to mind .. thank you so much for sharing them!

[AYVID N]

You’re welcome E! Have a lovely, awesome day! It is such a pleasure my friend.