bat shit

bat shit
i can’t write anymore
but i know there’s a poem in here (somewhere)
in this dripping, stinking mental cave
i’ve gotten lost in
where bat shit and old bones
collect around my thin shoes
and i stumble on the echo of my steps
tripping through my ears and rattling in my skull

i can’t write anymore
but i know there is still poetry here
running from the confusion of my dirty pen
taking refuge in the alien cavern
of a shivering lost soul
where words can’t catch the metaphor
and the intricacies of language
are no more than fumbled groping

i can’t write anymore
but i know there are more stories to tell
hiding in the tumble weeds
with the threat of adventure
trembling in the wind of time
and terrified at the approach
of a child writer
who woke up a woman today

I may have been young but I was fearless in delving into the depths of my own soul and subconscious and dragging whatever I found there out to the light of day with pen and paper. I’m not sure it that was just part of how God put me together or the result of reading a lot of Rilke and embracing solitude as an integral part of my life at a young age.

Funny that I wrote that the untold stories were terrified of my approaching and telling. These days I’ve experienced significant backlash from telling my own stories and owning my own truth. Sometimes I wonder if there isn’t an element of prophecy in what I write only I am too dense to get it until later.

Plato used the cave as an allegory of human consciousness and awareness. Guano, or bat shit, collects in caves and is worth a pretty penny as fertilizer. It isn’t pretty but it is valuable. I also tend to think that God is an expert composter – give Her a big pile of shit and She turns it into rich soil where beautiful flowers and nutritious vegetables grow.

About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. I'm kinda-sorta busy being a student again; this time I signed myself up for a bizarre torture known as Graduate School. Theoretically in 4ish years I'll have earned some more nice letters to put with my name. Let's face it, I'm addicted to learning and probably need rehab to restore me to sanity and remove the obsession to read books. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
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5 Responses to bat shit

  1. Keep your chin up…hugs

    Liked by 1 person

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