Sunday, January 18, 2009

Will I Ever Learn, Mirror Image

I have had my share of dental concerns. I have had my share of mental concerns. :) Can one stand for the other?

Will I Ever Learn

Chewing on taffy,
Sucking on my teeth, something
Changed, filling fell out.

There's a hole. It doesn't hurt
But my tongue keeps exploring
Sharp ledges and the hole.

Fallen, in too deep again,
Need to stop digging.

*********************************

Another dream sequence, but perhaps not so far from waking life. I have had a couple people in my life with Tourette's Syndrome. In that challenge there are a wide variety of behaviors that can be what they call tics. Ducking the right hook is actually rather tame.

Mirror Image

I just hate mirrors!
Stopped to check out someone else
But find it's still me.

So I smashed it. Smithereens!
Now there's so many of me
That I ran away.

I hid in a thorn thicket
Wishing I was you.

Now I have a tic
Whenever there's a mirror.
I duck the right hook.

12 comments:

  1. I have been enjoying your poetry and the conversations in the comments here. You have a lot going on:). In my dreams, it is my teeth that shatter. Not so often, but often enough. I would try to write a poem, but just remembering the feeling I have during those dreams is too disturbing. I especially like the lines "I hid in a thorn thicket/ wishing I was you." I feel myself there.

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  2. The taffy may be worth the hole! Always heard all my life, stop biting on that candy, you'll break your teeth. Like this a lot.

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  3. Thank you for the smile from reading about your "dental-mental" concerns:) And, yes, perhaps you "need to stop digging."

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  4. Faith - I had difficult dreams just early this morning.

    Lorenzo - Thanks for that. More than my share of dentistry perhaps, but the good news, I have had it and still have mostly my own teeth, well, the shells of them. Filled some, filled and capped, filled capped, root canaled, and one dental implant.

    Dear Ms. Photo - A tongue digging into a tooth cavity doesn't change much for a long time. A poet digging into his other spaces, well, who knows? I just wrote a couple poems about this today, enough to almost break my discipline of oldest first.

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  5. Hey there Christopher. I liked both of these poems.

    Synchronicity or something, but I just posted a new poem right before I came here that has a lot of glass/mirrors in it.

    Nice imagery.

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  6. I like both of these, but especially the mirrors. Damn things, always showing us who we really are. That tic could come in handy.

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  7. mirrors are important for reflections..... i did this mini-picture for you..... orange lobe reflections

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  8. Charli, you know what I think already. Hope you know you are welcome in my life.

    Rachel, ducking right hooks makes for a major side to side weave, or else bending backwards out of the way, no small movements possible. The right jab might give you a small head movement, but a hook comes from below headed toward uppercut. This might be rather conspicuous in front of mirrors.
    :(

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  9. Hmmm. Thanks, I think, Ghost. I have it saved but not sure what to do with such a thing. It no doubt goes back a post or two, to the pumpkin shaped life. Nice to have you here again in this odd internet thing.

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  10. I love both of these poems, especially "Mirror Image." Though I love the entire stanza, these lines are awesome:

    "Now there's so many of me
    That I ran away."

    Very powerful!

    "Will I Ever Learn" is excellent, too. I wonder why we dig in those holes? Those last two lines are perfect. I love how your poems are always on different levels. Excellent work!

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  11. it is an artifact of my thought processes about you and your blog.... the best thing to do is to put it in its own folder..... that's what i'd do with it.

    i really like pumpkins, and the pumpkin is you, and you were reflecting on punching hostile mirrors, so i mashed it all together and it became a silicon-chip-type-thing-only-with-a-lot-of-colors.... and now it's yours!

    enjoy

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  12. Julie, thanks for visiting. I saw that comment at your site that you were someone's favorite realist poet. I will never tell those kind of stories, but as you saw, I certainly respond to them. You are a welcome guest, a wise woman.

    Ghost, of course. That is exactly what I will do.

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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.


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