and here I am,
knowing that there is a world
outside this slick walled space,
where memories don’t writhe
away from your grasp
like pale worms searching
for less exposed places to be.
This is not the first time,
which is a small blessing.
Because I know if I hold still enough,
a small thread will present itself—
so tiny at first, but
getting more solid with each breath
until it is strong enough
for me to tug at
and pull myself out of this oubliette
and into the world
Song Choice: Ansiedad by Carla Morrison
This poem was inspired by the Weekly Scribblings prompt at Poets and Storytellers United, Found Poems and Erasures.
knowing that there is a world
outside this slick walled space,
where memories don’t writhe
away from your grasp
like pale worms searching
for less exposed places to be.
This is not the first time,
which is a small blessing.
Because I know if I hold still enough,
a small thread will present itself—
so tiny at first, but
getting more solid with each breath
until it is strong enough
for me to tug at
and pull myself out of this oubliette
and into the world
that I remember.
Photo by Hailey Kean on Unsplash
Song Choice: Ansiedad by Carla Morrison
This poem was inspired by the Weekly Scribblings prompt at Poets and Storytellers United, Found Poems and Erasures.
Glad your protagonist is not sinking into complete erasure!
ReplyDeleteI wanted to end on a hopeful note
DeleteI found this lovely. A slip, just a slip, nothing big, but there you are. Knowing from experience there is hope, be patient, the dark places are not permanent.
ReplyDeleteAnd all we need is that small bit of hope sometimes
DeleteLet's hope that wish of yours come true. Millions of people worldwide must be bewildered at the picture we see of your country.
ReplyDeleteI imagine so. It's been... interesting. And election day is just around the corner
DeleteI love this poem, Rommy, and the uncertainty of whether it is a real person in the secret dungeon or a ghost that has been there for hundreds of years. ‘I slipped’ could be either and ‘This is not the first time’. By the end of the poem I wanted her pull herself out and into the world that she remembers. It is also a perfect metaphor for depression and the way some of us feel in lockdown.
ReplyDeleteI am delighted that you saw both a story and a metaphor because that's how I was hoping it would come across.
DeleteAwesome work indeed, Rommy. I thought you might enjoy this: https://wordpress.com/posts/rlavalette.wordpress.com?s=oubliette
ReplyDeleteI tried to go to that link but Word Press keeps asking me to make a blog over there instead of showing me your post!
DeleteYou opening 2 lines took me back to Decartes
ReplyDelete"Ergo i think i am"
Happy Wednesday
Much💛love
I hope your Wednesday was good too
DeleteYour poem echoes all the feelings that come to my mind when people ask me, "How can you deal with this or that without falling apart?" The secret, like your poem suggests, is remembering that we've gone through a lot and we are still here. When we keep that in mind, when we remember it at the right time, anything life throws at us can be faced... and often defeated.
ReplyDeleteThank goodness for the small (strong as the whole universe) threads that keep us from getting lost.
When I'm feeling playful, I refer to those as "mind-hacks"... just ways I can by-pass the part of my brain playing "OMG" on a loop to get to "Right... what's one thing I can do/ say/ remember to take the first step back?"
DeleteSo very evocative, Rommy, and it's all due to that single word title "Oubliette." Lost, forgotten, trapped and in despair. Like Oscar Wilde's poem "De Profundis" -- "from the depths." And yet, there's that tiny thread of hope and redemption in your poem that brings hope. Love it!
ReplyDeleteI had to have that note of hopefulness in there
DeleteThis flows sooo nicely, brings memories.
ReplyDeleteIt quickly brought one from your use of the word, "Oubliette". I wrote and posted a couple of poems earlier using that word but the picture I used for them will never leave my mind, nor the wonderful experience of finding the displayed man in jail in the downstairs, basement, of a castle in France.
Read if you please, I'd like you to,
https://jimmiehov6.blogspot.com/search?q=oubliette
..
That one I was able to find! Maybe because I already have a blogger site. :D
DeleteSuch abject lonely imprisonment pictured here, and accompanied by an equally somber poem. Masterfully written.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Bev
DeleteAlways remember to reach high, even in the midst of despair, and you will find a way. There is always a thread of hope. This is an amazing story/poem.
ReplyDeleteI am so glad you like it
DeleteThis is wonderful and seamless, which has to be difficult. I love the idea of the thread.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much!
DeleteThe optimism at the end makes one feel hopeful. I love that. I tried not to feel claustrophobic as I read through the beginning lines. Ah, brilliant you. :)
ReplyDeleteI did work for that claustrophobic feeling, so the freeing could be so much sweeter. Thank you for the kind words.
DeleteThis poem is one of hope and optimism, i am sure.
ReplyDeletethanks for the song choice, i have been listening to songs in foreign languages lately, and i am enjoying them.
I found that song while scrolling through Facebook one day (LOL, so it's still good for some things) I really love it.
DeleteDreams and nightmares are like that; my thread is always a prayer
ReplyDeleteMuch💙love
It is a blessing to have a reliable thread.
DeleteYour poem offer great hope. I like that a thing so tiny, the thread, can grow to offer stable support. The possibility to overcome is a message I take away. Powerful write!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Khaya
DeleteThe casual slip, the waiting for the thread...for a title that reminds me almost overwhelmingly of Labyrinth, the poem brought me to a different and hopeful place.
ReplyDeleteI've loved that word ever since I first heard it used in Labyrinth!
DeleteI needed to read this. I'm in a dark place and I need to hold on to that thread to pull me out of it.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad that thread of hope resonated with you
DeleteYes, Rommy the times I feel as though I'm hanging by a thread ( and there are many these days ) I search for hope though it may take a while and when I find it ... I go there. Perfectly penned.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Helen
Delete"this is not the first time, which is a small blessing...
ReplyDeleteso importantly inserted in the middle of this poem. The slip in the beginning is often all it takes to get us so off track ... and the image of the thread - just barely there - can make all the difference in the world. A powerful poem!