It’s complicated, really, but so much
is defined by the presence of a garage.
Here is a stand-alone, connected by
a breezeway, single-car with storage;
could have been so much more –
had planned for it, but life changes.
Once had an oversized garage – direct
access, housed two vehicles, custom
built – but the cars are gone now, and
the single stands vacant, like my mind.
Except, the other day, I swore I glimpsed
an animal there, perched on the shelving
fierce, cat-like eyes caught in the dim
light of an open doorway – a tigress,
body crouched – I backed away, but
not before claws pierced my imagination
tended to the bleeding, chastising my
foolishness – of course, she isn’t real –
I lost my feminine prowess long ago,
am more of a groundhog now – slow
moving, podgy, sniffing the air for hints
of change, burrowing in the face of trouble.
A family lived here once: a tightly knit
portrait of three, lulled by the protection
offered – no storms to weather –
until the husband left, daughter
in tow; ducked beneath closing
of the automated door –
me, trapped beneath layers of regret
choking on their fumes, homeless.
Would ignore her, except for
those grasping, white-knuckled
fingers pleading for rescue; would
shoulder her, but shudder to host such
destruction within my walls,
already robbed of equilibrium
this state of heightened vigilance
a cause for neglecting self – have
humoured one too many advantage-
taker, cannot trust my own instincts
am disillusioned, no longer content
with inconsistencies, need to
confront the condition of my garage,
clean out the accumulation of stored
nonessentials – maybe hold a sale –
whitewash the interior and buy a car.
(Reena’s Exploration challenge this week is the long and short of it. The above poem is the long. The short follows.)
If life is defined by a garage,
then mine is single, attached,
empty and needing work.
(The original version of this poem was published in August 2016. It has been reworked for this edition.)
Cool, is that your voice VJ?
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That is my voice – not as clear and strong as it used to be. I’m planning on attending an open mic in a week, so thought this would be good practice.
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Sweet! I used to have a female voice over artist record audio stories I wrote for a website, it was a blast.
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That would be interesting – a whole different tone.
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Sad but holding within itself a life.
We need to confront those garages in our lives and if it is yours, do white wash it. 😊
Miriam
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Thanks Miriam.
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Totally enjoyed this. Personally like the colour of that garage, it makes a statement!
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Thanks so much. Couldn’t resist taking a pic of that garage.
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I love it.
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Poignant– beautifully written
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Thank you. Appreciate the comment.
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I love the colour of your garage doors, we all need colour in our lives.
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Not mine, but couldn’t resist photographing them.
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Powerful intensity here. Hearing it read aloud added to it. The “short” of it: perfect.
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Thank you. It needs to be read aloud, I think.
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You’re welcome and I agree 🙂
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Fabulous metaphor. Loved this.
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Thanks, Heather
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A pleasure!
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The garage making a statement – look at me! Alone but not lonely. Bravo, V.J.
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Thanks Eugenia.
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You’re most welcome.
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LOVELY, VJ. Hearing you read it gives it that much more impact.
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Thanks so much.
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You’re welcome.
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I love your use of extended metaphor in this poem, as well as your reading.
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Thank you, Liz.
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Your reading of the poem added a whole new dimension – or rather, it emphasised the points. Stopped me from reading too fast and missing some of the depth. Now I can re-read it at leisure and hear your voice in my head.
In short, I loved it.
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Well said!
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Thanks so much, Jane. Poetry really does need to be read aloud.
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I agree, For a couple of years I’ve considered creating audio files, and now you’ve inspired me to give it a go. I’m grateful to you for that.
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Go for it! Took me several takes, but I am such an amateur.
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I’ve been messing around with it for the past couple of days. It’s taught me three things:
*A lot of my poetry sounds either pompous or self-obsessed
*I’m not a good orator
*I get too carried away with alliteration.
Oh well, back to the drawing board…
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Ha ha – I have to say that recording this poem made me do a lot of editing. Not a bad thing.
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Editing is the secret of good poetry – whatever casual poets might say.
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I agree with you that poetry needs to be read aloud.
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The possibilities and the veiled self within this.
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Thanks.
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Pleasure
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