And also come ride the Monday Poetry Train...
"those mud smeared boots,
expired medications;
chipped spectacles;
some loose change;
that tattered journal
a much thumbed photo album,
you know what, she hoards trash."
these words, I overheard
for being spoken about me, to my mom.
without confrontation,
I heard my mother defending me,
"she seldom hoards the bitter words;
your somewhat sarcastic smile;
your cutting remarks,
your hurtful ways.
she forgives and forgets,
moving on forward,
always being affectionate to you."
Pausing she went on,
"so why do you grudge her holding a bit of trash?
all these are stuff which belonged to her dad."
A very appropriate touch for Father's Day. You have a lot of solid nouns and that reads very well in the first stanza. The middle's a bit weak, I'd like to see it with a touch more confrontation. I don't think you need to hold to the list format. Very nice ending to tie it together.
ReplyDeleteNicely done. You take the reader to a totally different place by the end of the poem. I also like all the detailed images of the first stanza.
ReplyDeletelove all the details in the first stanza, especially how things like expired medications (okay, maybe trash) and a much thumbed photo album (definitely not trash) contrast, but not in the mind of the speaker
ReplyDeleteGreat. Very strong images. And I was thinking, "Go Mom!"
ReplyDeleteas far as which is more important to let go of, medications or judgement.
I like how the last line explains so much about the confrontation, about the woman who keeps so-called "trash," about the mother, and about the speaker who made that claim in the first place. Interesting dynamics at work.
ReplyDeleteWhy do people think they can pass judgement on what others want to keep hold of. Glad your mother defended you. The fact that everything was your dad's makes it very moving too,
ReplyDeleteVery nice, gautami. You say a lot about the love and loyalty between family members, and also the hurt that gossiping can cause. Consice, well-told.
ReplyDeleteAre you writing poems about me, now...? I love it, because it rings exactly true for me. And the ending is rather twisty, with an emotional punch.
ReplyDeleteIt is funny how some trash to other can be a treasure to us! Especialy if the object is something a dear one gave us!
ReplyDeletegood for your mom for defending you! she sounds like a great woman. the ending was really touching. i hoard things too, especially those that has great memories.
ReplyDeleteThis is so nicely done with all the details! And I love your mother's reply!
ReplyDeletevery specific! love how it evolves and appreciate the speaker's mom sticking up for the speaker! it shows she understands the meaning behind the "mess"--that it's a psychological attachment
ReplyDeleteNicely put. Each to his own. Others, butt out, as they say.
ReplyDelete"she hoards trash."
ReplyDeleteI like that line. It speaks volumes.
But I especially like your mom's rebuttal -- about what you DON'T hoard.
why is it no one recognizes the things we let go
ReplyDeleteI love that it came from an overheard conversation. Such powerful words.
ReplyDeleteI like the way it works both intospectively and interpersonally.
ReplyDeleteI like the distant sense of self as identified by others.
ReplyDeleteMother's and fathers do it all for love.....
ReplyDeletestrong family relationships ring loud through your overheard story... she hoards trash.. after all that gave a little kick just for good measure... that yr mother did not pause in her reply and places a cherry on top for purpose!
ReplyDeleteHi Gautami. Thanks for visiting my blog. It's good to be back in the poetry community! I really like this poem. Are you the hoarder? We can never assume the significance or lack of that the smallest of things might have to another person.
ReplyDeletewow, i love the way this evelops to a powerful ending.
ReplyDelete