Dampness penetrates the bones. Dirt refuses to wash away. At night memory explores my skin, roaming about while I sleep. The sea comes to take me for its own, the roaring thunder deafening my thoughts. I wake, face down in a swamp, lungs burning with the smell of earth. I can't escape. Nothing releases me...not death in dreaming, not waking. This is how I become undone by a smell, a word, a place, a thought...Friday, January 30, 2009
The Undoing
Dampness penetrates the bones. Dirt refuses to wash away. At night memory explores my skin, roaming about while I sleep. The sea comes to take me for its own, the roaring thunder deafening my thoughts. I wake, face down in a swamp, lungs burning with the smell of earth. I can't escape. Nothing releases me...not death in dreaming, not waking. This is how I become undone by a smell, a word, a place, a thought...
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32 comments:
Hey there;
A couple dark posts lately, lovely, but dark.
Has spring sprung up there yet. Imbolc is around the corner but I'm not feeling it.
Burdock Boy, It must be dreary January that's bring this out. No spring around here yet. Every time it warms up a stitch, old man winter raises his head and blows in our direction. Brrr...
"This is how one becomes undone by a smell, a word, a place, a thought..."
This too is how one finds their way by a smell, a word, a place, a thought ..
Dark, however it makes one think of the light ... thanks for sharing your gifts.
Beautiful, Carla.
It's cold here too.
Best wishes, My dear friend.
This person has obviously worked at my company...
Mark, Indeed, it is also how we find our way. As Leonard Cohen says, there is a crack in everything...that's how the light gets in.
Annie, Thanks. I keep thinking that spring can't be that far off.
VE, You always know how to make me laugh.
yes. a smell can especially take me to a good place or a bad place in the past. wham!
Wow, war I guess, Or aftermath of a tsumani.
Beautiful piece. A bit disturbing in its vividness, so you've done your job well.
I looked for an e-mail, but didn't see one. Don't be surprised if your name comes back just like mine! (since I'm only missing the C)
Pretty deep!! I never did get poetry in school. Still don't but I try harder now trying to figure out not only what was said, but why. I'm probably not very good at it though...
It's really a poem in its unity and beauty.
Lovely the image of the French cloister.
Pamela, Smell is actually the sense most closely related to memory. But you probably already knew that.
Jannie, Thanks. I guess life is disturbing at times.
Envoy-ette, Thanks for the heads up. Yep, same with the addition of an extra paragraph. Entertaining.
Sirdar, First thing I want to say is: is this poetry? Wow, thanks. As for your other comment, the better you get, the more you'll begin to realize, a lot of it just isn't that deep...it's just the way some of us communicate.
Aaouie, The picture was taken in Strasbourg during an afternoon wander. It was a very peaceful little place.
G'morning Nomad. Nice piece. Your capture in words is poetic. Our ties to memory - through "a smell, a word, a place, a thought" - are the gossamer strands of our web of being. I think we jade a bit as we get older...or habituate...as I think we were all a bit more synestheic as children. Remember how overwhelming a smell could be as a child when stepping into a neighbor's house, or say, tucking into a cousin's bed on an over-nighter? I also think the retention of memories...especially good ones...can be purposefully fostered via ritualistic association (for example - via a process similar to the smudging of sage by Native cultures). Nice reflection, Carla, thanks for sharing.
How powerful the senses are!
January is a powerful month. I am trying to decide if it is the long cold month of January that is worse; or perhaps March with it's promise of warmth that never quite arrives.
It is COLD!!
Your amazing photo - reflects the theme of your deep and yet stunning post.
Thanks for visiting my blog. Wow, a quick look around shows me that this is a real keeper! I just love your blog. I'll be a regular, well, as regular as I can be with a busy life. Again, thanks for your visit. Hope we can keep connecting here and there!
Carla,
Cold and stunning. Maybe you need to visit Florida for a weekend:) Add a little vitamin D to those chilling thoughts..
Fool, What you say brings back lots of memories. You are so right. We do jade or habituate as we get older, but then every once in awhile something happens to shake us up a bit and it all comes flooding back.
Isle Dance, Thanks. You're too kind.
Pandave, Yes it is, but I'm starting to get used to it. That's horrible to say, isn't it. Looking forward to spring.
Peter, Thanks. I'm glad to see you around again. I look forward to reading more of your work.
Sherry, Welcome. Thanks for dropping by and the compliments. Feel free to come around anytime.
Maggie, Oh, you're probably right. I little sunshine would do me good this time of year.
The aroma that comes from the local chocolate factory always does me in. In a good way of course, as the pure scent of dark chocolate is highly intoxicating!
You really know how to ‘work the words’… read the poem 4 times and got goosebumps!
I haven’t been here for a while, but read all your posts. I loved all of them (borrowed the crisp recipe), but most I loved Rupert’s story!
You really know how to ‘work the words’… read the poem 4 times and got goosebumps!
I haven’t been here for a while, but read all your posts. I loved all of them (borrowed the crisp recipe), but most I loved Rupert’s story!
Rowena, Couldn't agree more.
Fida, Thanks for your kind words. Rupert and I are still getting along smashingly well. Hope you enjoy the crisps.
:) Not everyday is sunny and warm.
Great poem,Carla!You find always the right words.
Here is it cold too and always grey sky!I hate it!Really frustrating weather!
Have a nice day!
Steffi, Thanks, you are too kind. The weather here sounds about the same, although it has warmed up a little over the last week.
"Undone" is a good word to use when experiencing a night terror. As I'm waking up, the feelings you wrote about are what I'm feeling at the time. It's like I'm really living a tramatic experience from another time, which I don't have a memory of. I hear the sounds, feel the fear, see the things trying to harm me, yet they aren't there. I'm glad you posted this.
Envoy-ette, I'm glad you like this and certainly hope your terrors leave soon.
JBelle, 'Tis so true, both literally and figuratively. Are you having snow in your parts these days?
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