Tuesday, February 10, 2009

By a Thread and a Prayer


Driving and thinking
about buttered Pop Tarts,
Italian glass and promises and
why you hang on to these things –
as if you needed tokens to
remember to feel bad.

Regurgitated patterns of
reaching out, reaching back
and retractions, and Dear God,
let us never forget the stuff
we keep, and the moments
and people we squander.

Holed up in a murky room,
inhaling poisons of air and
mind as you ponder the genes
and atmosphere of your person,
and just where the threshold
might be – the very limit of
pains one can accrue and
still manage to breathe.

© 2008 Marcy Stoeckel

12 comments:

  1. "where the threshold might be- the every limit of pains one can accrue and still manage to breathe."
    very real. I appreciate real!

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  2. Greetings – I invite you to stop by Image & Verse and say hello.

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  3. This read so well, so easy, the rythmn is great and I love your listing and right in the middle your 'Dear God' was like a person's skip in the middle of a good stride...you are very talented...best, Darren

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  4. "let us never forget the stuff
    we keep, and the moments
    and people we squander."

    What a painful revelation for me. How true.

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  5. Also, please be aware that now I am craving Pop Tarts, possibly my all-time favorite faux-food.

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  6. Sorry, I'll try to keep the faux-food references to a minimum from now on.

    Thanks, sincerely, for your words.

    (And I highly recommend the raspberry ones.)

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  7. You are so damn good at pain.

    (I love you.)

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  8. Well said Patrice, Marcy, you write so well. I don't often comment but I really enjoy reading your words as they speak deeply to me and since it's valentine's day and all; I love you for it! :)

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  9. Whatever it is that I am doing here - and I do pick it apart and wonder sometimes - I could not do without the encouragement of such generous and talented people.

    Thank you all.

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  10. I like how accessible this poem is. The downs of daily grind it alludes to, is very real to me as a reader. ;)

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