The Jar

This was an attempt to distance myself from being so directly involved with my reflections and allow room for others interpretations and views on the work... trying to be more universal!

I don't know what to do with this jar,
ominous on my shelf.
Full of embalming liquid.
Full of who I was not long ago.

But what is contained therein,
It's fleshy, but not recognisable,
Was it a natural part of me?
or a growth, a freak of nature?

It's removed now,
the operation was complete,
apparently no complications.
Will I be the same?

Such a freak show of,
formaldehyde and flesh.
You were once so treasured.
You were integral to who I was.

Do I want you back?
Reverse this operation?
A medical impossibility, Doctor?
Are you sure?

Gorey,
such a morbid curiosity.
I stare for hours at this jar,
full of who I was not long ago.

Reviews

[Kate Franta]

This is a very interesting poem, and I like it. I enjoy the metaphor of a piece of the self being removed, whether physical or otherwise. Very nice, hope to see more.