There is no incision
That does not compromise its host.
I thought I might bleed today,
Drag my ancestors
From their common red graves,
A séance where no one speaks
Their secrets are safe in me
Perhaps repeated but never staged.
I am the jar, the chalice,
The latched box
Inside of me even darkness laments.
Those who live in the gutter
Brew in the piss of their benefactors
Those who live in the gutter
Never forget that foremost
In their composition are stars.
The clouds are my anchors
I flicker as a man
Approaching death
In another war
I might have been a gun
A solider, a limping child
I might even have been a stone
Mute, encrypted,
Worshiped in retrospect.
I am not limited to what I perceive
Some days I curse and others sow
There is naught to do but ascend
But I’ve done my fair share of tunneling
Hope is always stronger
When there is no where else to go.
You may find me ignoble, wanting
You may scoff at my suffering
My education, the tenor of my constructs.
I am proof of your excess
Proof that a smile heals
What antiseptic can only bleach
Proof that love is endemic
And that when there is nothing
Left to give, there is still more
Than enough to share.
mindlovemisery 
I love the prompt. It’s one of my favourite quotes ever. I also loved how you spun off of that to include allusions to reincarnation. (At least, that’s what I got from it.) We could have been born anybody. Or maybe we were somebody else at another point in time. We are all of us tethered to circumstance in some way, shape or form.
Exactly Tony, I think we forget just how connected we are, we have all these illusions about what we would do and say in someone else’s situation, how we’d handle it differently, without having any understanding of the situation or the person we are all just trying to survive and like it or not we are all in it together
I absolutely agree with you, Yves. It’s easy to forget that the only thing in life we have control over is our choices. And choices aren’t always easy or comfortable, nor do they often lead to places we’d like them to.
Sometimes we can’t even help what we think or feel, so what do we do based on that? We choose what our path will be, mired though it be in a swamp of circumstances we’d rather not have to trudge through. Aaa-aaa-aaand… I’ll leave it at that before I come up with another tortured metaphor. 😛
Right on Tony!
Wonderful, just wonderful!! Oscar would be proud!! 🙂
Thanks Helen!
This is beautiful. Just beautiful.
Thank you Laura =)
if only we did not forget that our composition is of stars….really fascinating prospects in this…the being a jar containing as well is a cool image too….seriously cool verse…
Thanks a lot!
Unbelievably good opening:
“There is no incision
That does not compromise its host.” (this is my favorite part)
“I thought I might bleed today,
Drag my ancestors
From their common red graves”
Love these lines as well:
“I am the jar, the chalice,
The latched box”
“Worshiped in retrospect”
“I am proof of your excess”
“when there is nothing
Left to give, there is still more
Than enough to share”
Thanks so much Shawna!
An inspiring poem in many ways.
Thanks XD
Another gem Yves 😀
Thanks Pat!
Your writing is so beautiful, amazing and inspiring. I especially love the last line.
Awww thank you so much
“…when there is nothing
Left to give, there is still more
Than enough to share.”
Looks like I’m not the only one who finds favor with these lines.
Gutters come in all shapes and sizes. Some are made of cardboard and others brick. But to remember we are stardust… that is a might powerful hope indeed.
Thanks so much =)