Not My Usual Whatever *

 

Woke up knowing I want something different.
Something new, not me, but me expanded, altered, changed,
exchanged, whatever. Want to learn to write a new language,
one that makes the words pop up from the page, explode
with meaning, leaning into flow of wherever they want to go
and just leave them. Find a way to say all those things I never said,
except in my head, surprise myself into a smile, instead of worry
about what someone else might think, or not like, or can’t
understand
because they have no feeling for this unreeling of self
that I do, day after day.

At first, thought I needed a word revolution, some form of evolution
that would take me higher than I’ve been before. But, am afraid of
heights,
can only fly in dreams where it is natural to do such things
and not get broken.  Awoken, my feet are firmly planted, moving slowly
so as not to trip myself, fall on my face, keeping a different pace
to stay upright, yet leaning on a cane of sanity in order to be accepted,
while knowing I never will be.  Approval is for others
better than me, and funny how they don’t seem to need that.

No, it wasn’t the words that needed to evolve, but me to get out
of this revolving door that leads me back again and again to this room
of other doors always closing just before I get there. Closing quietly
with a click of a lock turned by time on a clock, and a hand
twisting on another wish for something different, something new,
expanded, changed, exchanged, whatever.

Do not care if you are ready, I am. You may frown, look down
your nose, did you know that makes you seem cross wise to your
stated purpose? You say you care, want what’s best for me, but we both know that the way in which I comb my hair is never on your check list
of the way things ought to be, and when they don’t fit, I must change
because we both know that you don’t need to. You were obviously
born to another form far more perfected, so I must be rejected because
I am different. I am not, but you must believe because that relieves
you of burden to change, exchange, whatever.

You might sigh, when you wake up to know that I am gone. Shake your head
vaguely remember dull thud of closing door somewhere far off in a dream
while you were sleeping. Might whisper on that sigh of how hard you tried,
and you really really did, but we fools just never listen. Think you hear
the ticking of my cane, turn to tell me wise things I need to know, find instead, empty air, right there where I’m supposed to be, but am no longer.
Gone somewhere, chasing after change, exchanging this for that,

and all that other whatever.

 

Elizabeth Crawford

Nov. 2009

**Brief explanation: This is what I call a cross-over piece, something that is both prose and poetry, but better than either when put together, finding more meaning in the mingling of the two. Some might call it a prose-poem, and that’s just as good a definition as any other.

 

 

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About 1sojournal

Loves words and language. Dances on paper to her own inner music. Loves to share and keeps several blogs to facilitate that. They can be found here: http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/ https://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/ http://claudetteellinger.wordpress.com/
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18 Responses to Not My Usual Whatever *

  1. What a beautiful surprise! I love this, especially the cross-over nature of it. I love the evolution of this piece. Congrats! 🙂

    Like

  2. 1sojournal says:

    Thanks so much for visiting and taking a look. Your words are important to me. I guess the cross-over would be natural under the circumstances and have been doing it for years. Debunking the myths about writing is a special hobby of mine, lol.

    Elizabeth

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  3. Rinkly Rimes says:

    Your last stanza is a poem all by itself. Even without consideration of the story-line before, it packs a punch and flows beautifully a the same time.

    Thank you. Sometimes I find that just moving with the flow of the words will take me to that place I need to be. This was one of those moments. There are always those periods when I find I have to work up to that place in which I need to speak. Not all of us are born brave, lol.

    Elizabeth

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  4. anthonynorth says:

    Yes, a great style in this. Also deep and questioning.

    Thank you Anthony. I don’t do this near enough, but I always like the outcome. It is so very satisfying to break lose of the rules and just do it, lol. I know there are those who would object and say that strictly speaking this isn’t poetry, but I beg to differ. It has it’s own rhythm and cadence, and I find it far more poetry than anything else. I truly believe that poetry is many things and often takes on its own form and shape, if we allow it.

    Elizabeth

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  5. Great Prose Poem…I like the swing and the voice in this piece…the “whatever” at the end of trying to expand the meanings brought some beautiful casualness to this.

    Cheers!

    Thank you and welcome Emmanuel. I think that is the thing I like most about these types of pieces: “the swing and the voice.” They usually come as a sort of surprise, but once started, they are a lot of fun, and filled with unexpected tangents that hold meaning and value. And I often find myself grinning by the time it’s finished. This one was no exception, and contained a few curves in the making,

    Elizabeth

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  6. vivinfrance says:

    This poem expresses a need many of us have, and you have written it beautifully: prose/poetry – who cares if it says what you want to say. Fabulous sign-off lines: “Gone somewhere, chasing after change, exchanging this for that, and all that other whatever.”

    ViV

    Viv, I remember while writing this, that I swung from laughter, to anger, and back to that whatever. It was releasing and very satisfying to write and watch it happen all at the same time. Thank you for your comments,

    Elizabeth

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  7. I enjoyed your prose-poem of transformation! Good job! My Writer’s Island contribution

    Thank you Strummed Words, and I liked your emerging poet.

    Elizabeth

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  8. I like the idea of words popping up on the page and the page and then exploding. I agree that it fits the prompt Emerge!

    Thanks Diane, I sometimes feel that pieces like this sort of build up over time, refuse to be forced, and ’emerge’ at their own place and time. Although this was written a while back, it is specific to my present circumstances and I’m so glad I found it again.

    Elizabeth

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  9. Mary says:

    Elizabeth, I am going to ‘second’ what Brenda said about the last stanza. It is a poem in its own right and, unless I am missing something, seems to hold the essence of this entire piece. That is the core of the piece…and the part of this writing that will stay with me.

    Thank you Mary, this poem for me, builds its way to that last stanza, one step at a time, a bit like layers being removed before one can really see what lies at that core. I will certainly consider what you say and take another look at what you point out. We most often, can’t quite look objectively at our own writing and that’s why it is necessary to get feedback. Thank you again,

    Elizabeth

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  10. rob kistner says:

    I was taken easily into this piece Elizabeth, drawn in by the gentle quandary and subtle mystery — wanting to know more as I went, and being left tantalizingly not quite certain, but wholly engaged. I find what you’ve done here to require no description or explanation — it simply is, and is fine as such… quite appealing and well done…

    …rob

    Thank you very much Rob. To some extent I do agree, it was fun and satisfying to write and went to places I myself wasn’t expecting. I got lost in the words and their rhythms. They seemed to know exactly where they wanted to go. So glad one of us did, lol. So glad to know that someone else caught that sense of the whole piece.

    Elizabeth

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  11. ms pie says:

    cathartic and revealing and spoken so beautifully… your thoughts instantly bring us in by the sheer nature of heartfelt emotion we can all relate to… and then we come to the meat the heart of the matter… freedom… it is so precious… i hope you will offer more of this freedom poetry of yours elizabeth… thank you for posting… dripping gray

    Hello Ms Pie, and thank you for your generous comments. Freedom is an important issue to me and always will be. I’m sure it will continue to be a frequent topic in my writing.

    Elizabeth

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  12. Exceptional write. VERY powerful. I’d love to read more “cross over” pieces if they all are like this. Love and Light, Sender

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  13. 1sojournal says:

    Thank you Sender, I’ll have to take a look and see what I can find. I know there are a few more. Will let you know if amd when I find them.

    Elizabeth

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  14. Rosemary Nissen-Wade says:

    But it’s a poem! Truly, it is. I love it all – and for me the favourite part is the beginning. Such energy and pace! You said elsewhere about ‘breaking the rules’. You sure have ingested and integrated them, and it shows in the way this moves and all the easy internal rhymes. It’s very assured!

    Liked by 1 person

  15. humbird says:

    I love this piece, Elizabeth! What an energetic flow! It hits with new awakened force, rightness, found freedom! Yes, poetry/prose. Thanks for sharing!

    Like

  16. 1sojournal says:

    Thank you, Rosemary. I’ve always thought it was a poem. Just very different from what I was used to doing, and what I had been taught about poems needing to look like poems. This one looks to be racing all over the place and page. Very long lines, breaking into one word, then taking off again. But, those single words were important and needed to be left to stand alone within the context I was attempting to do with all of it. A friend, I hadn’t seen in years, used it to introduce me to a chatroom filled with writers. We had a field day with it.

    Elizabeth

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  17. Sherry Marr says:

    I LOVE this – the form, the inner rhymes and rhythms, the energy and the message. I have made just such exits and for the same reasons. And now I am GLAD that I am different. “Supposed-to-be”‘s just never fit on me.

    Like

  18. 1sojournal says:

    Glad you like it. It was a freeing experience to write it. And each time I read it, I feel that freedom again. Thanks Sherry,

    Elizabeth

    Like

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