Obligations of Being

Brimelow

I find comfort in writing a simile about a tree
for nature is everything I want my words to be
Shapely
Kind
Elegant and free

I often convey the imagery of fire
for the elements display much to admire
They burn
They churn
They swirl and inspire

But perhaps the dull can be beautiful too
if granted a page
lit and dressed like a stage

I don’t recall Wordsworth describing weeding the garden
or scouring a sink
or devouring a mess
Yet despite their frustration
are they any less worthy of consideration?

We spend all this ink to buy all these feelings
but never find meaning
in the obligations of being

Like

When you meet someone new that appeals to you
they send your mind twisting and turning
Persisting and yearning with sparkling white wishes
just like your hands when you’re doing the dishes

Like

A love so familiar
that when she lay close to my face and lightly brushed my cheek
it felt like the embrace of a well-known toilet seat
upon my waiting posterior

Like

Waking up full of zest
after an evening spent getting fear off my chest
I feel so full of cheer and relinquished of doubt
like a man just finished cleaning mould from his grout

Well

Now that I’ve tried it, I’m in a bit of a quandary
because I could have spent this time sorting some laundry
Sadly that will have to wait ‘till tomorrow
and I’ll have less time to write
about the flowers in my window

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Comments4

  • Violet bluebell( used to be yellow rose)

    Very engaging poem 🙂 really liking this . The dull can be made beautiful ... with words .

    • Brimelow

      Cheers! This was meant to be a somewhat non-serious pastiche of what I usually write, I did enjoy attempting to twist a stanza about love into a commentary about going to the loo :p

    • Doggerel Dave

      Surprise!
      One of the funniest things I've read here for a while - Should be more of it. Many thanks.
      I would be remiss if I didn't mention that I enjoyed the structure also.

    • Goldfinch60

      Good fun write and so very true Brimelow.

      Andy

    • L. B. Mek

      'We spend all this ink to buy all these feelings
      but never find meaning
      in the obligations of being'..
      a great read, that first half of your poem before the 'Like' stanzas began, is just brilliant
      thanks for sharing dear poet



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