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Second Hand

Odd is it that I should think of clothing while looking at such horrific pictures.

What ragged soul bore the tattered shirt I wear? What insistent thrashing from the fuming globe did the arms in these ragged sleeves undergo? Of their troubles... might I know?

A second hand story, a second hand building, second hand smoke curling allegiance to breath, second hand food, second hand clothing. ...Death.

Every piece of clothing I own has a hole in it somewhere, a tear, a stubborn thread, shrunken look, sedated color, a missing button, a snag, a raging crinkle, or furled collar, not unlike my heart over the genocide of a people.

© 2008 mrp/thepoetryman

1. U.N. halts Gaza aid deliveries, blames Israel
2. The Green Prophet
3. U.N. Suspends Gaza Aid Operations
4. The Daily Banter
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  1. Utah SavageJanuary 9, 2009 at 5:45 PM

    This was so moving to me I've spent the past hour crying. Not a bad thing. Tears of sorrow and compassion. Tears of gratitude that you are looking at the victims as the victims that they are.

    ReplyDelete
  2. thepoetrymanJanuary 10, 2009 at 3:38 AM

    Thank you, Utah. I appreciate your visits and your tears.

    Peace...

    ReplyDelete
  3. kathleenmaherJanuary 10, 2009 at 9:36 AM

    Utah Savage and thepoetryman: you're both so brave. I look when I can. And weep when I can. But then I become almost paralyzed with grief.

    The idea of clothing is the perfect poetic leap here: Think of T-shirts and we can't look at this as just more wreckage; rather, those victims are inescapably each of us. And that's the very truth I subconsciously shy from, because it's so horrible.

    ReplyDelete
  4. thepoetrymanJanuary 10, 2009 at 4:31 PM

    kathleen,
    Thank you. I can't speak for Utah, but I find it is my muse that is much braver than I. I am a babbling rage when I think of these things, let alone see them. It's as if my muse hides the true nature of the picture until I can flesh it out and come to terms with it. If it weren't for her my attempts would be futile.

    I, she... felt the clothes made a larger point. A human point. A humanly horrible point.

    ReplyDelete
  5. OmymaFebruary 12, 2009 at 8:30 PM

    Am at a loss for words - your words so moving. It helps me get past the anger, which is considerable. Thank you for this, and for your poetry, which I just now discovered. It is true that your muse can bring connections nothing else could bring.

    ReplyDelete

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