WHEN
YOU OPEN A DOOR
Sometimes,
when you open a door
And
see the pure evil in the eyes of men
It
is impossible to close that door
And
go back to your table.
But
if your table remains
If
your table remains
You
return to it, changed
As if just back from a foreign country.
Elizabeth Marino is a Chicago poet, performer. and educator. A Pushcart Prize
nominee, her work includes: the full-length hybrid poetry/memoir Asylum
(Vagabond, 2020), the chapbooks Debris (Puddin'head Press) and Ceremonies
(dancing girl press), and over 20 print anthology contributions.
Truth!
ReplyDeleteIf it resonates with you, I am glad.
DeleteReally nice Elizabeth. Hope in the face of fear. Congratulations!
ReplyDeleteI examine that sentiment often.
DeleteVery nice. That last line reminds me of the kind of subtle edge that Billy Collins puts in some of his poems that pull the surreal into reality and make a point. Your poem makes the point well, like the opening of the Pandora box, no turning back once you've "seen" it, even if you don't partake in it. Our brains catalog everything we've ever seen and experienced and so if you don't want a certain image in your brain for the rest of your life, don't go seeking it out. Very philosophical and poignant. Well done.
ReplyDeleteThank you, David. Of course, some doors we choose to open, but some of life is not actively "sought out." It simply exists and requires response.
ReplyDelete