Sunday, June 19, 2005

The dirt we dare not tackle

Considering my last post was of feature length, and therefore, longer than I know some of you would prefer, I decided it was time for a slight change of pace, so, I dug a bit into the recent past to find a poem to share with you that would be free of its previous engagements. And here it is for your reading pleasure:

The dirt we dare not tackle

there was a little girl
playing in her room
cleaning with a broom
the inner chambers of her doll house



a mini mop would swirl
should a spot appear
or there exist a smear
within the well lit space

therein lied the problem though
since she never cleaned the corners
and that is where the mourners
chose to leave their pain

in the darkness of the shadows
the protected space of old
does the hidden truth unfold
of the doll now gone, forever dead

----
I'd love to read what it means to you, so happy commenting.
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14 comments:

NPB said...

Going back to my childhood and trying to fit into a six year old I would think the poem is a reflection of how we as children think a doll house is this huge gigantic world full of clean, colorfull toys. As we grow old, the dirt piles, we see the doll house as this small, trivial world full of dust. Our child is dead.

Franco Esteve said...

Hmmm. Quite interesting. Not quite what I had in mind, but that's the beauty isn't it. Everyone gets something different from it. I'll soon let you know what I had in mind when I wrote it. :)

Miguel Juan said...

Hello, Hello...
Well, my interpretation of this poem is simple. Problems do exist, whether we like it or not. The question is: how do you choose to deal with them? Now a days with the fast life we tend to live, most people rather push problems aside and hope they dissappear. Truth be told, problems do not go away by themselves, so pushing them to the corner does nothing. The little doll would be our inner self, our conscious self trying not to see reality. That reality in the corner of the room will remain there until our death if not swept and taken care of. Life is like a box of chocolates, eat as many as you can and be happy. Just kidding... But seriously, don't forget your problems, face them and the universe will conspire with you and take care of it. Remember, you must get of your behind for this to work.
I hope this is closer to what you had in mind, at least it's my perception. Good writing anyway, as always...

Franco Esteve said...

Thanks for the compliment, and yes, you hit it right on the nail and well put. I think you meant the little girl instead of the doll, but that would be correct anyway. The doll is gone, forever dead. The problem is buried and ignored within, but the truth is there should one choose to deal with it.

I wrote it thinking of a couple of friends who kept avoiding the real problems and only dealing with the simple, easy stuff of day to day living. They knew they were there, in the dark corners, but wouldn't face them. Their suffering would continue over and over, the depressions, the constant crying and everything else. It's like mourning for a dead person, never ending, because one hides the truth in the shadows which are ignored.

So great. Excellent. Anyone else?

Miguel Juan said...

I'm sure I know some of those friends, if not relatives!!! Problems are a fact of life and will always sneak up on you. They don't discriminate. They don't care if you're rich or poor, white or black, catholic or atheism, etc... So, bottom line is: why waste the precious time of life worrying so much as to get into a depression? Of course, you can worry some, after all it's a PROBLEM!!! But problems can be viewed as experiences and then they don't seem as bad. I know, I've been there and I'm still alive. Life is awesome...
Anyway, Francis now you got me blogging...

Franco Esteve said...

Couldn't agree more. And as to:

miguel juan wrote: "Anyway, Francis now you got me blogging..."

I can only say, I told you it was addictive ;).

NPB said...

Ok. now I feel stupid. I did not get it. Miguel Juan is brilliant. Wait a minute... are you real?

Franco Esteve said...

Yes, he's real, and NO, You're NOT stupid Natalia. Each person experiences things differently. The words meant that for you. The words meant that for him, and for me. That's the beauty of writing and of poetry in particular. Each person takes away something different. That's why I chose to include that one instead of a more direct one. ;)

IvO said...

Nice poem, and I agree with what Miguel Juan said. :D

(sorry for the cop out, just wanted to quickly let you know that I read the poem.)

IvO said...

and might I add that it's really late and I should be in bed?

Franco Esteve said...

Thank you for your comments anyway, and I'm glad you've enjoyed it. :)

Anonymous said...

First of all this is my first time writing sometime in english with public. So i hope you can understand what im trying to say. Hopefully yes because my english is just elemental. Ok living that behind i just think that its so graet reading different opinions that are born from a same place as b says. Que bello es todo diria la nina de la sombrilla. I cant hide my spanish its just imposible i really love my born leanguage. Sorry. Righ now im leaving everything behind and im just feling the air going in and out my body. Its early but my inside girl is sleepy so a love you all. Pssout

Anonymous said...

errores muchos no?

Franco Esteve said...

Errores no importan. Thanks for your comments and welcome to the blog. :)