Alone in Small Rooms

I don’t want to write about you. I don’t want to write about me. I don’t want to write about the state of things because there is no state, only stasis. I comb through the works of recluse poets as though there were any other kind. A poet lives in a room in her heart, and stays there writing forever. Listening to words of wisdom, words of strife, I am not transported in the least. I ache for the words I cannot find anywhere. I am looking for something I do not know how to see. All I want is to be alone and the world has served the opportunity up to me on a silver plate. Is this what you wanted? Is this how you like it? How could you have let this happen? Perhaps we wash our hands forty seven times in a single day and never once come clean. Perhaps we can’t come down with an illness if we’ve no longer got any skin. In the trees I see the stars as they blink on and off in an early morning sky. Winter, she hangs on and hangs close and drapes herself like ice frosted along the branches. Yesterday I saw some little pink buds, tiny whispers of life, preparing itself in spite of the sting in the cold. And as those on the outside talk and talk, on the inside I don’t hear a thing except silence within silence, I can’t feel anything but a strange eclipse of fear over distance, fear over distance. Time like the ticking of a clock. Time like a lead balloon. There is something at work here that we refuse to see. Weakness, indecency, arrogance, hysteria, seeds of anarchy, greed. Cruelty. There is a cruelty which marks the heart in the declining character of the civilized world; indecision, dishonesty, incompetence, deceit. It goes on in its bluster, it is a joke, it is entertainment, it is ascending, it is the nameless name of all venomous things. It claims lives. It is numb. It is senseless. It is afraid. Please define civilized. Please spell civilized. Please use civilized for me in a sentence.  You want to make love and I want to scream my head off until my throat bleeds. You want me to paint the kitchen cabinets, keep my hands busy. Keep my mind off of things. My mind is a thousand tentacles writhing freely, even at home, even in the living room. Even as I speak back and forth with you, unblinking. Even as the news breaks and breaks and breaks all day like tsunamis over our heads, my mind grows three hundred arms as she reaches, reaches, reaches, grasps, grasps, grasps. What will become of the flesh. Will all of our molecules be transformed, will we emerge as new creatures when all this is over. Will any of this finally change us.

26 Replies to “Alone in Small Rooms”

  1. It will change us and how. Nothing will be like before. I hope this change will wipe out globalization, the greedy
    and idiots.
    You are so current in your writing.
    I love you 🖤🌹

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I hope so, too, sweet friend. ❤️🖤🌹 I love you, Soul. Adore how real you are, your honesty. All around me people tell me to smile and all I want to do is rage. Thank you for being here, and out there. I hope you are ok. 🖤🖤🌹❤️

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I’ve been home for 10 days. I can’t go to work because of restrictions put in place by my government. I only go out of necessity and have a self-certification permit. Air of war in Italy from curfew never seen such a thing. May the gods help us defeat this invisible enemy. I go on Marie is hard.
        I wish you and your country a lot of strength and luck, I love you❤️🖤🌹

        I love the picture🖤🌹

        Liked by 1 person

      2. My heart breaks for you, for Italy, for the world. I pray and pray for those who are sick, I don’t know. All I know how to do is write…. so I try to write. 🖤🌹 It is true what you say, an air of war, invisible enemy. Nothing like this have I ever seen. Erosion of trust, faith, health. I’m so sorry, I go on, dear Soul. I thank you, thank you. Love you. Isn’t this picture just beautiful. ❤️❤️🖤🖤🌹

        Liked by 1 person

  2. It’s not just beautiful, it’s true.
    It represents the present world.
    Be well and write a lot, keep me company.
    Thank you for your nice words❤️🖤🌹

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you so much for your exciting words that you left me about my country. 🙏🌹
        You are so wonderful, sensitive, profound! You are my Emily Dicknson.🙂🌹
        Wishing you well Marie. Much love to you❤️🌹

        Soul

        Liked by 1 person

      2. You are so welcome, my dear friend. I am thinking of you, hoping always that you are safe and well. 🙏🏻🌹 I am so humbled to be your Emily Dickinson, I am not worthy of such kindness! 🖤🌹 Thank you for making me smile. So very much love I send you, Soul. ❤️❤️🌹🌹

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Forgive me, if I quoted E. Dickinson what I want to say and that you are brilliant in your stories, in your words written with the heart.Not at all I used your quote with your favor.You are a soul as beautiful as your voice❤️ 🖤🌹

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for your beautiful words that I hold dear. I try to use my voice now to help ease the people’s fears. Maybe now as the world is aching, it is the time for the artists to shine…. You are wonderful, Soul. 🖤🌹❤️

      Liked by 1 person

      1. In addition to the fears of the world, a noble gesture on your part I listen to your beautiful sensual voice to remove the dust on my rusty English🙂❤️🌹

        Liked by 1 person

  4. You may have wondered why I didn’t reply to your comment on my post. When I read I thought about leaving it so beautiful and pure❤️🖤🌹

    Liked by 1 person

      1. You are so beautiful with your words. Thank you very much for your friendship in these dark moments.
        May the gods be with you, dear❤️🖤🌹

        Liked by 1 person

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