Saturday, July 08, 2006

Between the moon and New York city...

As she came she left
Empty hearted but full of life
Eyes are tearing with excitement
Words shaping with new meanings
Same words now possess a weight
A situation is something of a concrete now
Problems are not to be ignored
Paths taken not to be erased
And mistakes that have to be owned
Emerging anew
With lessons a few
After listening and observing
It is now time to set the tone
For life
Life that built up
With a lot of care and perfect harmony
Friends and stuff
And more stuff
Roads learned, pictures hung
And a plate in the hallway
A plate… Next to the jar of potpourri
A plate that has numbers with no names
Keys for lost bags and spare buttons for lost coats
And an extra screw for the bookshelf from Ikea
Today she threw that plate
Erased the last number of the last name
These people are now strangers
The bricks of her house have been changed
Secretly at night
She suddenly lost her address
And all her stuff that she built up
With all the care

She formatted her database
She gave away her pet
Nothing moves her now
She lives no where
She lost ownership of the city
And the country
Just as she came
And she starts anew
She lives the future
She lives life
In perfect symmetry


Mar said...

Change calling for you?

_z. said...

Wow! Mirvat at her best!
Beautiful poetic description of mundane things suddenly elevated to the stature of art; divinity almost. Great writing Mirvat.

And you speak of Her… hmmm… hint hint.

However and not to take anything from your poem, I have a small critique if I may.
All the words flow together perfectly, except for one sentence:
“She formatted her database”
It just didn’t click. It woke me up! It doesn’t go well with the “spirit” of the other words chosen…

Bass hek!

_z. said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
_z. said...

and mayyybe, it could have been better if you omitted IKEA...


hashem said...

great poem.
good luck for "her" wherever she decides to go....and watever "she" does....

Z. Ikea and database made the poem so real to me.

Mirvat said...

mar, i thought of you while writing. seems we're answering to the same calling my friend.

z, i'm happy you now know my hint.
critique most welcome and point well taken. if i may though, the database is that of that of a memory and a state of mind. database, crude reflection of a summation or a description of the truth of our life away from home. a life of stuff from ikea :) a user friendly easy to assemble, easier to discard life with a manual you can hardly understand.

abul hish, thank you and same to you.

Mar said...

Telepathy my friend. I wrote you something too.I agree with Hashem about how it feels more real with ikea and database and I agree with z how they stand out. I strongly agree that this is a great post.I'm so agreeable tonight. Good Evening everybody!

Eve said...

"Keys for lost bags and spare buttons for lost coats"

I feel sorry for the lonely buttons, missing the sleeves, keys with no identity, an incomplete pair of earring etc..

loved the poem, M... as she comes she always leaves.

Zee said...

Hmm, soon you and Mar will sail away to a common destination. This poem makes me sad and hopeful at the same time...

Mirvat said...

thanks eve. i'm sure the lonely buttons will eventually find somebody and be happy.

zee, not sad. it's about change, the normal cycles we go through in life which is not bad :)

Zee said...

I wish I was in your shoes Mirvat ...
but you have to allow me to be melancholic - so there!

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