024 Facade

24 01 2012

Behind the facade

The inner room was built in haste from small and off cut clay.
Thrown together with mortar caked, it took not quite a day.
No time to roll or rake the joints, the outside’s sure to please
I’ll be there to clad it with fine stone from overseas.

Run your hand along the smooth and shiny outer stone.
You’d think the total structure might be made from that alone
if you couldn’t see the contrast, but only the outside
you wouldn’t know the truth about what it really hides.

The inner room contains me in a room I built by hand
at a time when I was hurting and no one could understand
the difficulty I have in revealing who I am
but now the outside crumbles and helps reveals the sham

I can’t keep up the falsehood of a shiny neat veneer
it dulls my intuition which I often fail to hear
I might not appear to be so neat or polished any more
with cracks and gaps and leaking taps and dust around my door

but my soul is freer than it’s been in more than thirty years
maybe that’s the blessing of a month of many tears
I wonder if my messy walls can deal with mice and men
or whether I’ll just wait a while and clad it up again.

 

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5 responses

24 01 2012
Libby

Beautiful poem.

25 01 2012
Gilly Gee

I have a lump in my throat now, this is beautiful.

25 01 2012
Louise

🙂 thanks Gilly.

25 01 2012
Vinatge-Gypsy

This says so much. Beautiful. I can’t even describe how much this resonates with me.

26 01 2012
Inger-M

This is so insightful, revealing and honest. Thanks for sharing it. The photo is a wonderful illustration to your writing. It is also a great photo by itself, I love the colors, textures and contrasts.

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