call for acceptance (the me you see)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Holding the receiver, left ear burning to your echo

I wonder why I never hear it coming.  It catches me

again, and somewhere a torchlight flickers with exposure.

 

Down the line the fire melded arc of your acceptance

sends a shock of electricity, so charged it leaves me

prickling as your forked tongue hangs in dead air.

 

At times like this you are afflicted with a snow blindness,

no panacea for the defeaning interference of white noise

as you keep pushing the me that you see to the fore.

 

I stare out of the window, tap the glass with a dull clink

and sharpened claw as I await reverberations that will inevitably

break the surface.  Splintering again, only this time I shift.

 

Are you mad or am I? I can’t seem to find my anchor anymore,

sitting here with the Emperor as he tries on new clothes.

I don’t see your truth, nor you mine. Reality lost with a flatline tone

 

The call is over.  Message bottled. Receiver click.

 

 

Written for Open Link Night over at dVerse Poets Pub.

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26 responses to “call for acceptance (the me you see)

  1. nice… i like the images you use…and the nod to the story with sitting with the emperor trying on new clothes…the shifted reality, the not being exactly sure if what you see is really what you see.. maybe this is why einstein said that everything is relative.. fine poem

  2. i can not seem to find an anchor anymore…that def fits the emotion…as your forked tongue hangs in dead air…ha i like that…i think sometimes we dont want to see it coming honestly…though we dodo…doesnt keep it from hurting…

    • Thanks Brian, so glad those lines spoke to you, sometimes things knock you off your feet emotionally and it’s hard to find ground again isn’t it? Will be over to read you shortly. Looking forward to it.

  3. Your writing is, at once, both familiar and unique – your words draw your readers in and keep them comfortable except for that sudden, unexpectd pinch of reality (or is it actually a necessary wake-up call?) When I was but a fledgling, I wrote (in rhyme, no less!) a short piece stating, in essence (and from possibly faulty memory): “You may think you know the real me/You only know what I let you see”. How many masks do we all possess? I found out, when I attended college and worked at the library there – my family had me convinced I was an idiot, while the professors ganged up on me and anointed me as being a budding genius. As for my own thoughts, it’s always easier to believe the bad, isn’t it? Yet, I think on any given day, I am fluctuating in between those two declarations. Obviously, this piece has made me dig a deeper well to quench my thirst, memories from so long ago being parched and dusty. My admiration and gratitude to you for writing such a piece as to cause me to become so contemplative…

    • Wanda, what can I say?! Do you know that comments such as these truly thrill me, if one person is able to connect my words to their own experiences or emotions then I feel I have done what I set out to do. Even more than that though, I like to create accessible poetry that anyone can read and own for themselves and don’t mind how it is interpreted providing the reader finds what they were looking for in it. But when somebody can pinpoint exactly what I am communicating because they have lived it too then that is so exciting! I try to write what I feel and what I know, and to be honest and free with my heart and I thank you for being free with yours. Neither of us are idiots, and the people we receive those messages from probably don’t believe it either, but their eyes are perhaps unable to see. I, like you, swing on that pendulum from idiot to intelligence and I still am not clear on which side I belong but kind and encouraging comments from readers lead me to the positive side more often than not and keep me moving forward and believing in myself. There are still days of crushing self doubt and plenty of self deprecation only now they are followed by tiny flashes of confidence! Love to you x

  4. I find “no anchor” and “can’t tell what is real”
    Loved this writing & your photo story. So neat to read your poetry which gives such a strong story! Really enjoyed this ~ thanks!

  5. I am old old old and still I find such a strong craving for approval and acceptance in my life, that I often think I would wear any mask to get it–yet experience has shown me, sooner or later the divergence between who you are and what others want creates nothing but worse feelings of inadequacy, because you can never be *that* exactly right. So my goal now is just to be happy, and be myself, and admit those who can enjoy that to my life, and keep the rest at a distance. My absolute favorite line in this poem is the last one–the line goes dead, the message goes into the bottle, to toss out from the island, hoping someone will find it and see the survivor on the sand. A fine poem, Vanessa. Truly.

  6. Can’t seem to find your anchor any more, not sure who is mad, what is sane, what is real handled over the power of words transformed through technology and then back again. Do we lose anything during the process? I liked this a lot, whether I got it all or not. But I felt like I’ve had these calls before. Almost an alient, out of what is normal, experience.

  7. Wonderfully executed, I have had the literal thought of “Are you mad or am I?” in my time, I believe you have taken that essence and evoked the perfect harmony to it in this. Lovely write ~ Rose

  8. I would echo the thoughts of most of the commentators here, but add this, as well: what I like about this poem is that you keep the tension on by marrying logical and irrational images together, reflecting the insanity of the situation.

  9. I’ve had…still have these conversations. It strange how some people can suck you into their reality until you are vemenous too. “as your forked tongue hangs in dead air,” Yep!

    • Ha ha 🙂 I think it was one I just posted at random, not for dVerse… sometimes that’s when the goodies slip through the cracks as they are usually the emotive ones that come tumbling out when I’m all fired up about something! xx

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