I was rummaging through my closet earlier today. Dangerous activity – – very dangerous.
Everyone has one of those closets, don’t they? Or is it just me? For me it’s a closet – – for others it may be a drawer, cupboard, big box in the attic – – whatever. It’s all the same. It’s stuff.
Just stuff. Nothing of real import to the world. Nothing practical for every day use. Just stuff.
Photos that haven’t made it into the books yet.
Ticket stubs from travels long ago.
Old business cards from jobs no longer held.
Clothes never to be worn again – but they were cool once.
In that closet – I came across a poem that I once tore out of a book in a library. Shame on me, I know.
Ever have a piece like that? It just strikes you. Speaks to a part of you that isn’t necessarily a part of everyday life . . but it’s there, at any rate. It’s a part of you that surfaces just long enough to appreciate the moment . . and then tucks itself back away again until next time.
That’s what is in my closet – – just my stuff.
I live, I die, I burn, I drown
I endure at once chill and cold
Life is at once too soft and too hard
I have sore troubles mingled with joys
Suddenly I laugh and at the same time cry
And in pleasure many a grief endure
My happiness wanes and yet it lasts unchanged
All at once I dry up and grow green
Thus I suffer love’s inconstancies
And when I think the pain is more intense
Without thinking, it’s gone again
Then when I feel my joy is certain
And my hour of greatest delight arrived
I find my pain beginning all over once again.
Somewhere, in my closet, I’m sure that poem still strikes.
Got something in your closet to share? I could go into great detail about what else is in my closet . . . some of it would just be too embarassing for words. Astroknight would never let me live it down, of that I am sure. But just to satisfy the curious – I’ll share one item that may, or may not, sully my sterling reputation
I found a quart container of pink liquid latex. Half full.