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Open Poetry #47
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The Handkerchief
| Open Poetry #47 |
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The Handkerchief |
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Namyh Senior Member
since 2009-01-20
Posts 988 |
The Handkerchief I walked down the stairs into the bright city street to the store for a brew and a smoke. Huddled in a corner of the smashed landscape was a rubbled human fragment that was broke. He looked like a drab bundle of dirty clothes, all torn and shredded at the seams, littered with the residue of broken battles and cracked glass of shattered dreams. He began his dying early through agonizing routes of disappointment, disillusion and shame, ending up in last place on pavement searching for that license tag of fleeting Fame. Great men leave marks of their fragmentary existence. On the tapestry of his life were blots, discolored blemishes he used as yardsticks to measure the man he was not. With his hand extended, he looked in my eyes and asked for any spare change. I pulled out some quarters and a handkerchief which he took and said "Thanks all the same." I said there was Sorcery in the hanky, which he viewed all folded and neat. And if he mentally rubbed the dark spots of his life, he could liberate himself from the streets. Cynicism in his eyes heard Truth in my voice. A glimmer of Hope did fuse. I nodded with assurance and waved goodbye saying "Try it ! So, what have you to lose ?" Halfway down the block, I turned to see his hand rise up in the air, that handkerchief rubbing some phantom blot engulfed by his captured stare. Several days later, I passed that place but a new guy sat in his booth who said my guy one day stood up heading home to his kids in Duluth. Then I walked down the block but turned to witness something inspiring and rare. That new guy was rubbing, with handkerchief in hand, some blot in the air with "his" stare. A Man can rise from a cellar to a summit giving birth to a brand new start, with a sprinkle of Belief and a dash of Desire and the Magic in the human Heart. Namyh |
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| © Copyright 2011 Namyh - All Rights Reserved | |||
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
Beautifully constructed. Self reliance comes through here to me, and the handkerchief blotting the air is merely an indication that he, too, has found the wherewithal to doo the same as did his predecessor. Good writing. ~ Eggs and bacon, honeymoon style / What's honeymoon style? / Straight up and hard. ~ |
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Word Weaver Member
since 2011-03-06
Posts 437California, USA |
This is fantastic Namyh. Love the "smashed landscape." I read the hankerchief as a metaphor for hope - wherever there's hope there's a way. Marcia www.thewritingforum.net |
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666California |
These are beautiful words, Namyh, full of inspiration. "discolored blemishes he used as yardsticks to measure the man he was not." ... and cutting, too. How well I relate to these words... care to send me a hankee?  |
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suthern
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723Louisiana |
Your words held me captivated... I love this inspiring work! |
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ebonygirl Member Elite
since 2011-07-14
Posts 2000California U.S.A |
Dear Namyh, Well written. There is hope fore everyone. Thank you, ebonygirl |
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Namyh Senior Member
since 2009-01-20
Posts 988 |
JerryPat – Hello JP! The human spirit is strange. Isn’t it. It can be behind the 8 ball, down in the pocket, looking up from the darkness and struggle to climb out onto the green velvet of the pool table and get back into the game and win. It can be face down in the gutter and look up into the face of God and find itself redeemed, ready now for accomplishment with a strength that only needed one helping hand! Makes me glad to be alive and human to reach into Purgatory and maybe pull someone out or hold onto someone and prevent them from falling in because there, but for the grace of God, may go I. Besides, it’s the job we poets signed up for anyway. Thanks JerryP for finding merit here and for putting a spark in the day with your words. Namyh |
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Namyh Senior Member
since 2009-01-20
Posts 988 |
Marcia – I thank you for those lovely words, for you are indeed the Word Weaver. The handkerchief also made him look into past wrongs committed, past people hurt, moments wasted and inescapable regrets as blots on his mortality. Whether the handkerchief had sorcery was not as important as his believing it did. And from belief sprang his hope for redemption that initialized an action. The human spirit! Amazing how it can take the ‘smash’ out of a landscape that was rubble. Ya gotta love it! Thanks Marcia for stopping in a spell and enjoying. Namyh |
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Namyh Senior Member
since 2009-01-20
Posts 988 |
Michael – Michael, you are so very lucky. I just happen to have one special hankee left and it’s on the way. It has been soaked in Hope and will provide protein for your spirit that would normally feed a Roman army. It has been baked in Belief and will give lasting clarity to envisioning what could be without discolored blemishes. And it has an energy threshold level sufficient enough to power a small New Hampshire town. Never lose it or give it away because one day I might be the one needing it back. LOL. Thanks Michael for your beautiful words and glad you found some inspiration here. Namyh P.S. – By the way, don’t leave that hankee exposed to the Sun for long. Umm! The Atomic Energy Commission hasn’t gotten back to me on that yet! And I’m still waiting to hear from NASA. LOL. |
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