Tuesday, 19 February 2013

Preparing for the sale






Late in the day she decides to locate the silver      
and find the brass, and so opens the cupboards -    
a hodgepodge of old style metal utensils,   
worship-ware, plates faintly holy with sandalwood marks still           
and stacked, outdated candles for the water filter
who uses them now? how absurd!     
to keep them taking up space and possibly, time; 
and love letters from years ago! broken bird-wings        
of affection, handwritten line by line           
tongue-tied emotions hyperventilating        
in laboriously well-formed words.       

 

Some of the metal’s so discoloured, it’s difficult
to make out the material, its probable value
only gauged by the weight upon her wrist
she’s hardly planned for this. The sudden surface of tarnished
plates, hidden nuances of dulled
reverence, the decayed bones and sinews
of silver, brass; in secret closets of skeletal
houses whispered away long ago, an unflattering past stalks
the present, fingerprints on smudged metal
cracked ivory candles, panting words caught
undressed in love’s crosstalk, vaguely violated taboos.

 

She can hear the cycle chap on his weekly rounds         
calling out to no-one in general “Repairs?”  
the silence babbles; there are no coherent replies.
On the opposite terrace, the retired clerk sighs     
for the gaunt work years; cars abound        
two to each parking slot now everywhere              
only the children possess posh all-terrain     
machines of predatory aero-dynamism, whose parts       
never need mending; anyway they don’t deign
to use repaired things, they just discard.
Cycles, filters, skeletal houses. Tarnished silver worship-ware.




Shared for OLN @ dVerse




 

18 comments:

  1. broken bird-wings
    of affection, handwritten line by line ... so much memories in some of the old things that objectively seem to be worthless..subjectively they never are..

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. very hard to be objective, esp about old stuff

      Delete
  2. So many things are saved that we won't ever use, I thnk; but it is so hard to get rid of them, though they take up space. It seems the longer one waits the harder the task is. Selling one's treasures or someone else's treasures is indeed hard.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. most things take on a patina of nostalgia with time, so much family history in old letters!..to get rid of the clutter one must be quite ruthless..

      Delete
  3. Amazing what we hold on to...you never know when it might come in handy...or help us cling to a memory of moment we never want to lose. There's poetry galore in the clutter...this is a testament to that...wonderful writing.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you. Poetry galore in clutter! that could start another poem.

      Delete
  4. broken bird-wings
    of affection, handwritten line by line
    tongue-tied emotions hyperventilating
    in laboriously well-formed words....some great lines..hard to let go because of the memories tied into some things....I enjoyed this.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Old letters are particularly hard to get rid of I think. Esp when the writer and reader are both dead. Thank you for reading.

      Delete
  5. it is sad how we just throw things out and buy new now....no sense of value given to things...and it translates to cheaper things as well...everything becoming disposable....and sadly even people...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. and everything generates more clutter because we get through our possessions so easily. And your comment about people being disposable is sad but true.

      Delete
  6. Cycles, recycles, scrap, waste... for some it's all the same thing...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. yes, so it is sadly..thanks for reading.

      Delete
  7. hmmm so much meaning in these lines... trading old memories for new life I see it this way NB, very nice I loved this one

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you Ramya. Trading old for new initially seems very hard.

      Delete
  8. "only the children possess posh all-terrain
    machines of predatory aero-dynamism, whose parts
    never need mending"

    Today, I heard the words, 'you're too young to have this problem' -- I've read this post 3 times now, but today it really hit home!

    Lovely and sad, but so true - a soon to be discarded thing!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Quick to purchase, quick to discard, seems at times that priorities are thoroughly mixed up. Thanks for reading, Yolanda.

      Delete
  9. I love the contrasts presented in this, and also your comment about nostalgia being a patina. Such a beautiful way to address tarnish... the lovely thing is that if something is tarnished, at least that means it was once shining.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, and also that it is still shiny underneath, a little scrubbing is all that's needed. Thank you for the comment.

      Delete