Smaller Pieces Can Be Found Here

 

This is where my whole falls
indifferent to the scandal
of being incomplete
The older I become
the more I scatter
in an idealism of split choices

I tear my despair
to theatric pieces
and wave my rags
from a glowing breast
I cannot find morning easily
The dark holds me longer
each morning in a lover's clasp
I am a witness of dreams escaped
I see my mother totter, my
children scatter
My hands grow delicate
at grasping, at turning
at opening small things
My heart grows wider
grown gentle
toward a better world

Till this is finally the place
where small pieces can be found
A pyramid shifting
slowly downward
flinging my gratitude like confetti
exploding from my once whole heart

Reviews

[Marie Anzalone]

I love your work, Phibby, and have always looked up to you as a writer. I wanted you to know that today. Here, your strength could be missed if one were deceived by the gentle tone. For it is strength, not weakness, when we can admit freely that the world is breaking our hearts. The vulnerability is the only way we ever find inner peace- in small or larger pieces. Sometimes, a review is not warrnted when an acknowledgment is needed more. Thank you for what you share.

[Phibby Venable]

Thank you, Marie, for your gentle, sharp observations and acknowledgments. Much love!

[Marie Anzalone]

You're welcome, Phibby, and the honor is mine.

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

Oh, Phibby. I understand, I understand. Beautifully done, again.

[Ken Simm.]

As you mention its almost like an inverted pyramid when we look around at what as happened. As has been mentioned by others that I admire reviewing this piece it is no hair rending, shrieking mea culpa. It is a thoughful calm particularly gentle piece.

[Ed Hart]

i love it most of all when the muse has us look into the mirror and bleed our truth into the world...this is where it's at, Phibby, as Mr K equitably noted

[W.k.kortas]

There is a plaintiveness, bordering on a quiet desperation, here that is unusual for your work. There is, however, no shreiking bravado that would seek to run the poem off the rails. Your breadth is widening, and your depth was already nigh unparallelled.

[Donald Meikle]

"It's the little things that count" they said, and now without them I know how right they were. Great write Phib (as usual)

[LJW]

Beyond brilliant. Like you wrote it for me. Just beautiful, real, profound.

[Emily B]

my heart aches for words like these