Thursday, August 17, 2006

Who’s there?

Emily, mother of my sorrow –
Genes of my prison cells.
You stuck out so you didn’t
Want others to notice
That you did what few
Can do. I could have
Taught you to
Build a disguise,
I who have hidden
In dishonesty.
You were right,
Your way was better
But there is no good way
When you’re a
Tear drop with out an eye,
A peach without lips
To brush against it.

(look at the picture HERE)

12 comments:

katy said...

you're on a roll, keep it up!

i am actually very pleased that you (that someone) chose that particular image to write a poem to... i had thought about it several times myself but couldn't quite put my finger on it (you know how that is?)... i love the last 5 lines especially...

But there is no good way
When you’re a
Tear drop with out an eye,
A peach without lips
To brush against it.

Pat Paulk said...

Another home run here!! Like Katy, the last 5 lines are dynamite!!

Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks Katy! I've been haunted by that image since I saw it a week ago. Actually the two images I've done poems about were things I didn't have any choice about. They were living inside me and gnawing to get out. As always dear katy, you have choisen exactly the right five lines as the best. Thanks for the encouragement.

Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks Pat! I'm glasd you liked this poem. You and Katy have such good taste, those lines really worked for me too.

ozymandiaz said...

Ya know, I almost wrote a poem for this one too. Something very striking about the drawing...
Great job

Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks ozy, glad you liked it. Yeah, I know how you feel, the drawing just got me and I couldn't escape it. I didn't have any choice -- I had to write a poem about it.

Natalia L. Rudychev said...

Striking! The emotion rises and rolls like a wave of the high tide.
This picture is truly inspiring.

Russell Ragsdale said...

Hi Natalia! Thanks for the kind words. I hope you had a wondeful summer. We have all been waiting your return. Going home always makes me happy and sad. I have missed your perceptive presence.

Sue hardy-Dawson said...

I think we all hide there sometimes even if it's only when we don't feel safe-this is such a sad poem it makes me think of some-one helpless

Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks Sue! This is a strong theme for me too. To be unusual (as in excelent) is abnormal. We leave the school playground, where that is a terrible taunt, when we grow up. But when, if ever, do we leave behind the fear of not fitting in.

Sue hardy-Dawson said...

I still feel it but now I'm lucky enough to have some control over where I have to be with whom and when-I think that is the misery of childhood if you don't fit in you're stuck with it there's nowhere else to go.

Russell Ragsdale said...

Exactly Sue, it is a real misery to be lonely in a yard full of kids. That's when we learn to hide. It can be simple or it can be very elaborate but it seems the only thing to do.