TYING ENDS – For D’Verse

Think about it–all the ragged ends,

those threads undone and tromped upon,

the finished products cut asunder in despair,

those outgrown or cast aside, too big to fill;

quilt pieces dropped, forgotten,

to return in dreams, unfinished.

Forgive and be forgiven, hear and be heard

for the first and last time.

So many stubs, so many seines to throw

to capture them all.

How can one leave a life unfinished?

I never learned the art of tying ends.

 

Nan  Nov. 09

About Nan Mykel

I used to think I would be a child prodigy, but then I got old. Formerly I had fantasies of rubbing elbows with cultural and academic leaders but that did not come to pass because I did not become a cultural or academic leader or any other kind of leader, for that matter. I am not even an "Alpha Dog," a term learned from a friend who had to become "Alpha Dog" in order to influence her own pet. (When gazes lock, she never looks away.) For years I expected to become a published author, but in passing I could not avoid the fact that I had little to contribute to the world's bulging dumpsters. I'm embarrassed to report that I also considered my primary process artistic productions powerful, rather than mildly neurotic. Which is not to say that I disrespect myself, only that I am beginning to doubt my potential for making a mark on the world. If I focus on strict self discipline I may be able to keep my garbage removed on a weekly basis, to keep the kitty box changed, the clothes cleaned, the dog watered, fed and walked, but that just catches me up to the starting mark again. When writing I physically grapple with words, wrestling them from their indifference into attempted chunks of awareness. I sit heavily on my chair; I breathe in artificially cooled air; my ear drums note the tap tap of the keyboard and the steady uninterrupted sound of the air conditioner, What is that sound? The roar of the ocean from 30 yards away...Inside, my thoughts are are balls in an electronic game machine, bouncing hither and yon from lever to lever. I am a little grim and intent until I recall a dream related by a black man in the prison where I once worked. He said that when he was a small boy, back home, he dreamed he was standing on his front porch pissing, and that he suddenly found himself pissing stars...
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14 Responses to TYING ENDS – For D’Verse

  1. rothpoetry says:

    Maybe when we are at loose ends, they are not meant to be tied!
    Well done!

    Like

  2. Oh. Oh. Powerful question and a raw and honest last line.

    Like

  3. Nitin Lalit says:

    The picture of leaving this world without finishing what I’ve set out to do, and discovering myself completely haunts me too. You’ve expressed that beautifully here. But, in the end, I reconcile myself with the thought that there’s beauty in imperfection.

    Like

  4. scotthastiepoet says:

    So true Nan – one of the true ket essences of life perfectly captured here….

    Like

  5. Frank Hubeny says:

    Nice lines: “quilt pieces dropped, forgotten,
    to return in dreams, unfinished.”

    I like powerful questioning all this leads up to in the last two lines.

    Like

  6. So many loose ends and the fabric unravels

    Like

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