That Old Gal

Someone I no longer recognize

Hey you, old bride

Wake up!

I see you twist in your lap

Those knotty fingers

At constant play

To hide that thing of gold

Precious metal without meaning

Long since you

Boldly wore your white 

Gown of shame

A hundred ways has he

Bound you

Branded you

With fist and fear

Dirty nails of poverty

Children who love you not

With bible verse

And the churchy judgements 

Of your friendless community

So brainwashed

You heard the key turn

In the lock

But won’t push open

Your cell door

One push

One step

You may rejoin

The world

Find faith

Then

Run to love

Reviews

[Ken Simm.]

Sounds like a Mrs Haversham of the mind. Interesting and soulful

[Cully45]

Interesting piece that is delving into the unknown world of the mind. Great work.

[Desert Knave]

Far too many people get to a place where they can no longer hear the lock un-lock. Excellent write. ~Jim

[Michael Sun Bear]

Thanks Jim, you make a true point!

[Thomas W Case]

This is fierce and compassionate at the same time—you’re calling her out, but really you’re calling her back to herself.
The grit cuts in that image of the open door: freedom right there, but the hardest step is believing you’re allowed to take it.

[Michael Sun Bear]

Thanks for reading Thomas. Always appreciated.

[Chris Shaw]

Plenty to get your teeth into here Michael. That old gal must be someone who you were once close to who is now unrecognized. I found myself pondering on how that can happen. Sounds like she became trapped in a relationship that imprisoned her. She became someone else entirely. You convey that change well in this piece. Have a good weekend my friend.

Chris

[Michael Sun Bear]

Hello Chris. I had written Betty an explanation for this poem, but apparently never got it posted. So I’ll try again. Please read the note I just wrote Betty, it is for you as well and will help with a little background information. And thanks for reading Chris.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you for the background info Michael. Hope your bank holiday are having a good Monday.

[Betty Hermelee]

hey Michael
Obviously this is someone you do not especially care for...and your words project that clearly...I'm trying to understand the relationship here...was she once your bride? a friend's bride? the inspirations is definitely lacking..seems perhaps she is not to be trusted because of her thoughts on faith and love? In any case, a well written piece that kind of left me thinking...which is a good thing....
Warmly, B

[Michael Sun Bear]

Hello Betty, I had composed a reply to you but apparently didn’t get it posted. First let me thank you for reading. Several months ago I made contact with my first love of over 50 years ago. She communicates in tiny dribbles. A few weeks ago she texted me she is living in hell. I have been unable to get her to elaborate. She is married, lives across the country from me. I actually do care for her deeply. So the inspiration for this poem was autobiographical in nature, that being the text I received, but I had to ask myself what could make a woman so despair, and I created a fictional woman and fictional backstory based on tiny hints she gave me in previous messages. I really don’t know to what extent my words may have hit home with her.

[Betty Hermelee]

Dear Michael
Thank you for the explanation... seems like you've come to grips with it.....always my pleasure
Warmly, B