HOMECOMING
Your greed is the burden I carry
Injured, shaken, needing relief
From a collision of desire and lack
right down the street
Knowing I deserve
the ease you now take for granted
In which you may never indulge
Some monk you make
meditating on your mountain of money
Issuing indulgences to your flock
Willing this dream, that nightmare tableau to
burst into life fully formed and
hungry
I want to go home, to rest among the remaining things which
have long exhausted their futility,
Fearing I am heading to their quiet knowledge.
The undiscarded
The utilitarian
The long suffering and
sturdy objects which endure after sister and brother have
found adventure and separation in
pawn consignment second hand shops
These low places have
consumed everything that
seemed like a good idea at the time
Before the flood
Before this freeze
Before this accident could lead to no other result than
Tonight, standing on your porch
Bleeding, spent and knowing
Now I am
more man than woman
more old than young
more resigned than certain,
laying now this burden at your feet
Coming to the door as you are in
underwear and indignation
Unconcerned by wound,
angered by blood,
Condemning me my weakness of body
Slowness of wit
Irresponsibility of thought
though I cannot reconcile the meaning,
as cold and shocked as I am
The mechanism of injury
happened so long ago
Cleverly you passed on the fear for survival
without its remedy
This is a fine inheritance, one my son will not endure
And when he finds my door after his fifth decade
Battered by all the left turns he made
Having misread my directions, my well crafted lessons
Uttered from a monk from the mountain of want,
I will set his broken bones with the strength
This dark night gave
The night I realized the address
I have always called home
is a place of disregard and neglect
Of crime and punishment
Actor and stage.
I the vanquished,
You the conqueror,
The design inlaid and set with a resin
Deeply hardened by the bitterness
Only the betrayed have the tools to work with
I know I will be turned away this night
I know the E.R.s are full
This full moon is tugging on each of us
And I have no way home
The struggle as simply ended as “Please come in,”
I walk into the night
Needing a nurse
And remembering, reluctantly
I am.
Comments
Wow. Just WOW. Beautifully
Wow. Just WOW. Beautifully written, Amissvik.
I didn't tell you...
I was too flooded yesterday to respond to you, but I wanted to let you know that your comment deeply affected me. I felt very raw writing this, and very ashamed. That's what that relationship brings up, and airing my dirty laundry so publicly felt like a betrayal. So with a heavy heart I opened the internet, saw your comment, and re-read this thing.
I cried and creid and cried. it's very beautiful and very uplifting. It's true and sad and deep. It's well crafted and spooky good. And I saw none of it unitl you gave me your post of encouragement.
I feel weird having this new voice. it is surprising and deeply satisfying, but hard yet to own. I will get there. Thanks to you, in part. So thank you for that, friend. Thank you.
Oh my father !
You are home !
Thank you
It's good to be home.