Monday, July 14, 2008

Pearls of Wisdom

I have re-Posted this poem from Jacqui BB from YAHOO 360 friends space
thru Cheyanne and in it he wrote:-
So I am hosting Poetry Wednesday this week in Sue's absence.
Sort of seems appropriate that I offer up a poem of my own.
And I have been rather rattling these off on demand of late but I don't think that is going to work today so I went leafing through those journals I have mentioned before.
I didn't even find a date on this until the next to last page I filled
(only about a third but every page a poem).
It is 1976. In the last year I believe of my relationship with a man named Bruce.
The one with the Masters in English and all but thesis on Doctorate.
He hated that I learned I could write.
I was not with him for 19 years so I haven't a clue of just what specific incident I am referring to in this poem. Likely a fight with my brother.
Far too many to be specific.
But not knowing I do not think lessens the truth in this poem.
Observe if you will
No tell tale frown
Nothing up my sleeve
Just behind my mind
Where quietly I air the linen
Review my past like a color guard
Passing in Review just out of yours
So I can pass judgmentI now pull it out for you.
Notice, if you will, the tiny facets
The minute changes of light
As I turn this prism of personality
First one way then the next
You'd never guess
The festered sore this tiny gem has created.
But a tiny grain of sand like so many, you say?
A mere chip off the rock of sand
And well have I hidden itEven from myself
Stored under gauzy tissue of laughter and flippancy
Smoothed and polished and coated and re-coated
To be a pearl of wisdom.
But the wisdom, my friends,
is in observing it
Pulling back the tender tissue
And wiping clean the gem
Then with a hammer smashing it
To reveal the original stone
The tiniest nugget of golden truthA trifle you say?
Well, perhaps
Perhaps once and maybe soonB
ut for now I give you the one, the only(Don't we wish?)
THE Pea which kept a Princess awake
Under not one, not two, not even three
But nineteen, count them.
Nineteen years!
Yes, Sir, Folks.
A more expensive trifle you've never seen.
It has cost us dearly.
(c) J.Binford-Bell 1976
Many thanks to Jacqui BB & in appreciation to Cheyanne.