In life I believe we are all empty vessels. Like little jars set outside on your porch waiting for a rainy day to come and collect water, thirsty for knowledge, inspiration, life. It's so painful, to sit and watch, as all the other jars collect water and fill to the brim, as I sit here barley collecting spatters that bounce off of their exteriors. Thats what I do, I collect the scraps. The remainder of water that has hit the jars around me and happened to shed a bit of their inspiration into mine. At 23 years of age, I am barely half full, or half empty, depending on the optimistic and pessimistic views from the world. I can't seem to be pushed out far enough, to collect my own water, so I sit, and observe as the others around me continue to flourish, and overflow with so much potential and experience and beauty. I envy the other jars so much, as the sun peeks out after the rain, and shines down on the drops left trickling down to the base and evaporating into the dirt below. So envious, to taste one drop of that cool moist water; I imagine it must feel like all the veins in your body begin to swell with life. The dehydrated tongue just begins to water with one taste, making it easier to swallow the pain. Perhaps what I need is a hurricane, winds thrashing and rain pouring for days. It would be implausible if I was to be so unlucky as to gain not a drop of water in a situation such as that, wouldn't it? But as of this moment, I wouldn't know, if the reasoning for my barren interior is sheer ill fated luck, or because I'm being envious of something that isn't mine and shall never be mine. Maybe I'm just not a jar meant to be filled with water…
Please excuse any of my grammatical or spelling errors, I wrote this as a spur of the moment type thing and thought it should be shared. Critique and feedback welcomed and encouraged.
My Review
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jessica I always admired imagination as once said great Albert Einstein logic will take you from a to b but imagination will take you every where when I was reading your poem these thoughts coming into my mind.
I love it when writers use an extended metaphor to express that which cannot be expressed blatanly without sounding depressing and self-pitying. As I read this, I pondered on my own jars, those I too place on my porch hoping for something to fill them. But then I realize that there is tap water inside my house, and I have cool iced-tea in my refrigerator so I take my jar inside and fill it with what I have, which may not be much but it certainly is something.
This piece of writing is evidence that you, too, have tap water inside and even iced-tea waiting for you. All you have to do is pick up your jar and take it. It is not everyone that can use an extended metaphor and run with it as beautifully as you did. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.
Good thoughts.
You have come of age to be creative.
Whatever you will create,that is your own.
Never stop writing.
This one is wonderful.
Go ahead,no envy,no looking back,no sense of defeat.
Embrace the reality.
Wish you good luck!
Posted 11 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
11 Years Ago
Thank you so much for the feedback and your encouragement, I greatly appreciate it!