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;Â 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. Â The above poem is the long. Â 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. Â It has been reworked for this edition.)
The possibilities and the veiled self within this.
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Thanks.
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Pleasure
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I agree with you that poetry needs to be read aloud.
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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 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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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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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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Fabulous metaphor. Loved this.
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Thanks, Heather
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A pleasure!
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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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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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Poignant– beautifully written
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Thank you. Appreciate the comment.
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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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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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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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