The Gallery of Wounds
I become a catalogue of wounds.
Here is the jagged crescent scar
on the left hand
that extended to steady me
as we explored the abandoned shed
behind the weed-choked vacant house.
The corrugated tin, left untrimmed
by time's degradations,
gashed the palm's edge.
The blood is memorable
as is the copper taste of that
momentary certainty of lockjaw.
Here, on the left upper arm,
is the faintest recollection
of the smallpox vaccination.
The deep sprain to the right wrist,
suffered trying to fly a homemade
broomstick and bed sheet glider
from the carport roof
and never examined by the doctor,
asserts itself as stiffness still
and the old misalignments
pop as the hand revolves.
Some wounds are too deep
and can't be seen but only sensed
by their effects, like dark matter.
The dark wounds abide,
invisible but full of gravity
that alters the direction
and velocity of personal history.
Here is the jagged crescent scar
on the left hand
that extended to steady me
as we explored the abandoned shed
behind the weed-choked vacant house.
The corrugated tin, left untrimmed
by time's degradations,
gashed the palm's edge.
The blood is memorable
as is the copper taste of that
momentary certainty of lockjaw.
Here, on the left upper arm,
is the faintest recollection
of the smallpox vaccination.
The deep sprain to the right wrist,
suffered trying to fly a homemade
broomstick and bed sheet glider
from the carport roof
and never examined by the doctor,
asserts itself as stiffness still
and the old misalignments
pop as the hand revolves.
Some wounds are too deep
and can't be seen but only sensed
by their effects, like dark matter.
The dark wounds abide,
invisible but full of gravity
that alters the direction
and velocity of personal history.
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Author's Note
Personal injuries
Other stories by Gary Hardaway
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"The deep sprain to the right wrist,
suffered trying to fly a homemade
broomstick and bed sheet glider"
Very enjoyable, Gary. I can identify with many, especially the glider.
The deep ones, yeah. Nicely done. *
Stinker of a last line though. I'd have the last stanza be:
and can't be seen but only sensed
by their effects, like dark matter.
Invisible but full of gravity
the dark wounds abide.
*
Excellent poem, Gary!
*
(Respectfully disagree with SDR on the last line.)
It's still a good poem but the "velocity of personal history" sounds like something out of a political essay or a biography of George Bush. The reason I don't say that it is just my personal opinion is because it is obvious that that is exactly what it is.
Still favoriting it though, enough good lines/images not to.
"because it is obvious that that is exactly what it is."
Good argument!
"The dark wounds abide, / invisible but full of gravity / that alters the direction / and velocity of personal history."
*
reminds of me of Nietzsche's excellent phrase, "wound of existence"
Super good. Like how the narrative of the wounds merge into the theme-symbolism of: Some wounds are too deep/and can't be seen but only sensed/by their effects, like dark matter.
Thank you all for your responses.
I liked this cataloging of wounds.I've thought about writing a list story around a few of my own, but it may be a novella or novel, instead.
Thank you, Gary.
Oh my. This resonates. ***
Thank you, Marcus,