Ordering Worlds on a Christmas Night
Making a world it's what we do
with lights with noise, with flags and glue
with a mask for each and every thing
sometimes two.
Making a world for what we are,
a dome whose rafters are strung from a star
just some LED lights, some watts, some string
in front of a strip bar.
Making a world that changes the way
we’ve made ourselves think or we came to play
is harder than math and cold as bling.
It's done every day.
Making a world, it's what we fear
that we hold off with sparkle and sentiment's tear.
Soldiers of plastic blow horns in a ring.
The Savior is here.
Making a world, we want it more cute.
A Disneyworld planet and a Times photo shoot
shiny with order so we don’t leave a thing
to show the dead root.
Making a world. it's what we plan
an unrisen bread from the kneading of man,
though the hunger persists we use what we bring
And forget what we can.
December 2010
Also posted for Poetry Potluck, at Jingle's
Photo courtesy of dustus @Onestoppoetry
Slightly edited to improve lack of cheerfulness, 1:28 pm
I'm reminded of the line from Burns - "the best laid plans oft go awry" - we order our worlds over and over again, an "unrisen bread frm the kneading of man." Excellent.
ReplyDeleteOften masks do cover fear, pain too, and can even provide a semblance of order. Perhaps it's fear of hunger and a meaningless world that provide the dross and impetus for creating the trappings of appeal, respectability, even an entertaining Disney cuteness. And many times those underpinnings are lost in a world people attempt to forget purposefully. Wonderfully thought provoking, Hedgewitch
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed this. I could identify with the impression that the photo left. A brilliant photo, for sure, but the structures and lack of humanity are intimidating.
ReplyDeleteWhat sort of woman looks at such a clean, cheery scene and turns around and writes such gloomy poetry about it?
ReplyDeleteOh wait....
Never mind!!!
Thanks all. Loving the various takes so far.
ReplyDelete@FB; yes I know, I should look to your lovely message of sunshine and light and be schooled...*hangs head humbly*
i like the way how your mind goes here - making a world.. deep
ReplyDeleteVery well done, I like the repetition in the first line of every stanza, sells it nicely. The power behind this is fantastic, but then I expect this from you so no surprise here!
ReplyDeleteHope you had a great Christmas!
Joy,
ReplyDeleteWe cover our fear of failure by calling it achievement, and hide our achievements for fear of having them called failures.
All with bright lights and sweet tastes to make the effort palatable. And with a Stoic dedication and grit.
(I'm going to exercise now and breathe deeply).
Love it!
Trulyfool
Deep thoughts, things hidden under masks of joy... hiding pain, fear, loneliness... hunger. Well written piece.
ReplyDeleteFantastically deep and profoundly wise. The last stanza is an amazement. "an unrisen bread from the kneading of man". HOL-EE cow!!!!!!
ReplyDelete: ( So true, so true.
ReplyDeleteNicely done hedgewitch.
ReplyDeleteHappy holidays to you.
Pamela
This is incredible, JoyAnn. I've been thinking about how we try to recreate special moments instead of accepting the ones that we are in. This year a string of lights went out on our tree and we couldn't fix it so we let it be. A lesson for me in less-than-perfect. I enjoyed how you wrapped it up.
ReplyDeletebeautiful.
ReplyDeleteGlad to get refreshed by your work.
Happy New Year.
A+
This is really good. I enjoyed this even though it has such a dark feel.
ReplyDeleteReally enjoyed this - especially the imagery in the last stanza :)
ReplyDeleteI like the bread refernce at the end, about it not rising cos of man. Well written and poignant.
ReplyDeletehttp://jessicasjapes.wordpress.com/2010/12/27/stocking-filler/
love it- mines here- http://fiveloaf.wordpress.com/2009/12/06/time-is-not-the-essence/
ReplyDeleteThis is so true. We each create our little worlds, and forget (as much as we can) the outside world. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteAh yes. We do hide from ourselves.
ReplyDeleteGood Potluck poem. I'm a bit late getting here. Sorry.
JamieDedes