Sunday, October 17, 2010

Objet petit a


Objets d'affection
are still mere objects.

And, oh, how you make them feel
like the tiny objects that they are not.

As if they were nothing
more than a vessel
made to hold your pretty words
and some skin
for your gratification.

My loyalty was boundless
and born of heart and mind
while yours
merely a function
of genitals, conditions, and
a carefully landscaped distance.

And, oh, how your actions
have always attested
to the fiction of your words.

And still you wonder why
I always say no.

For years
you have cursed
my perceived vacillation
while I have waited for proof
that I was more
than an objectification.

And, oh, how you could have
had me
in any of a hundred moments
had you ever really seen me.

Yeah, you will be indignant
and I will be punished –
avoided for years
while the ghost of
“I would never hurt you”
wafts through my daily life.

Yes, you would

and

yes, you do

and

no, you don't

and

no, you aren't.

You never really were.


© 2010 Marcy Stoeckel

7 comments:

  1. words and actions are better. lovely poem. ;)

    http://iamchamiechamz.blogspot.com/

    ReplyDelete
  2. A great read Marcy, to me it was sad and forboding(s0). You have a way with words. I was pleasantly surprised to see a post. Thank you for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Thank you both, quite sincerely.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Your words dazzle and entice.

    I miss you and hope you are well. Peace.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I've come again to visit, hoping to find you. I shall have to be content with the magic of your words here.

    I hope you are writing still and that life is better for you. I love your soul.

    ReplyDelete
  6. High, girl!
    While I realize my penname is quite morbid, yet,
    you shall find in our blogs a gobba (subliminal) moxie
    which has taken this mortal sinner yeeeeers to compile:
    I lay it ALL out for you, dear - neet-o, packaged, concise
    (gotta lotta poetry, too).

    Nevertheless, wouldn’t ya love an endless eternity
    of aplomBombs falling on thy indelible cranium?
    An XtraXcitinXpose with no
    zooillogical-expiration-date,
    with an IQ much higher than K2,
    and an extraordinarily, sawcy, rowdy victory??
    Here’s what the exquisite, prolific GODy sed
    (with an excellent bullshot detector):

    “Faith, hope, and love,
    the greatest of these is love -
    jump into faith...
    and you'll see with love”
    Doesn’t matter if you don’t believe (what I write);
    God believes in you.

    Meet me Upstairs, girl, where the Son never goes down
    from a passionate, prolific iconoclasm where you’ll find
    nonillionsXnonillionsXnonillionsXnonillionsX… of
    deluxe-HTTP [<- pi] opportunities for excitement BTW.

    Do it. Do the deed, dude. Sign into the Big House.

    ReplyDelete
  7. High, girl!
    While I realize my penname is quite morbid, yet,
    you shall find in our blogs a gobba (subliminal) moxie
    which has taken this mortal sinner yeeeeers to compile:
    I lay it ALL out for you, dear - neet-o, packaged, concise
    (gotta lotta poetry, too).

    Nevertheless, wouldn’t ya love an endless eternity
    of aplomBombs falling on thy indelible cranium?
    An XtraXcitinXpose with no
    zooillogical-expiration-date,
    with an IQ much higher than K2,
    and an extraordinarily, sawcy, rowdy victory??
    Here’s what the exquisite, prolific GODy sed
    (with an excellent bullshot detector):

    “Faith, hope, and love,
    the greatest of these is love -
    jump into faith...
    and you'll see with love”
    Doesn’t matter if you don’t believe (what I write);
    God believes in you.

    Meet me Upstairs, girl, where the Son never goes down
    from a passionate, prolific iconoclasm where you’ll find
    nonillionsXnonillionsXnonillionsXnonillionsX… of
    deluxe-HTTP [<- pi] opportunities for excitement BTW.

    Do it. Do the deed, dude. Sign into the Big House.

    ReplyDelete