Life Inside the Box

An old trunk’s tickle

fills the attic -- senses 

of a life’s dry rot --

documents to some 

far-flung time.

What lies await

an unpacking,

truths to seed

the bitter roots

of an imagination?

Who remembers

why, or even cares

what needed to be

locked away? 

I am ignorant to 

the oddly plotted garden

of dead orchids

thistles and thorns,

all the strange hued roses

so carefully coiffed 

through those seasons 

of a boxed living.

What I imagine,

the small inconsistencies

now loom large

like condors circling

contradictions 

I am tasked with

squaring. How you

managed to keep a lid

on all the warring pieces

suggests a purpose,

some slow simmering

of an appetite

for holding onto 

secrets -- burying 

old wounds until

the heart simply couldn’t

beat back against

the festering abscesses.

After a full day

of sifting the choices

I make narrow down to

nothing much --

what I thought I knew,

the crimes you confess to

are not the crimes 

we convicted you of --

the small treasures you kept,

your priceless relics

of no redeemable value

save the memories they store --

the few stray thoughts

I collect to keep, 

to lock away inside my own

attic’s trunk,

in time to come

I know now

will open up the scars

I chose to let fester.

Ken e Bujold

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

I have been there and done this twice recently. For my aunt and my mum. For my aunt, there was a sadness of missed opportunity, she was such a recluse. For my mum who was a giver to all, it broke my heart. You never know what you are going to find. She kept all great aunt Winnie's letters in her final year. Correspondence between her and a Bible bashing minister who wanted her cleansed of her sin before she died of TB at 17!!! They were hard to stomach. Such a good write Ken. I was there with you. Much to ponder on with this excellent write.

Chris

[Ken e Bujold]

when I say this I know you will understand having done it yourself: its such an odd experience. A strange mixture of fascination, sorrow (for what you didn't know, and what they held so close to themselves) and a bit of what the?? when you find yourself questioning why did you keep this. My grandmother kept charge account bills from the 40s. on the other hand she was completely unsentimental about just about everything else, sort of willy nilly keeping and tossing stuff in what appeared to be how much space she wanted for something else, which I suppose is understandable considering she lived to 103

[Chris Shaw]

103 gives plenty of opportunity to keep stuff doesn't it? Quite an age. Yes peculiar she should keep all those bills at the expense of more sentimental things. Us humans are a strange lot aren't we :)

[W. Barrett Munn]

Yes, the walk through another’s memories is difficult to ascertain the meanings without having lived the life.
I believe you nicked a vein with this one.

Winston

[willweb]

A day in the attic...this makes me think, if I were rooting through an old trunk of a family member who had passed, would I be shocked by what I found or pleasantly surprised? I know of many who would be shocked I think if they opened my trunk when I am gone but my thoughts are...who cares now, what you didn't know when I was here didn't hurt you. Ok, that sounds selfish but I believe I would accept what I found not use it as a tool for judgement. I like how your poems make me think. Sometimes I think weird stuff but think I do. Very cool Ken.

[Ken e Bujold]

I am fascinated by history, large and small. for the stories, which often are not what we believe as much as how we imagine them to be. When you take that thought and then begin to open up yourself the magic of poetry begins, at least for me. Quite often your reviews, make that just about always, are an affirmation to me that what I am doing is getting across to people. In this one the idea of judgement, of another and self is central. the hinge comes late, the verse I thought I knew, crimes, not convicted of...simple metaphor for knowing someone is nay impossible until you know yourself.
Thanks for the visit Will
Ken