I would have said anything
to make it easier for you.
I would have said anything
to make it easier for me.
Grief makes a good liar,
and I was willing to titrate the truth.
But now,
weeding through my words,
I'm stung by what's taken root -
nettles, proof
of the vows I've not kept,
needling and pricking me apart.
The promises you wouldn't have let me make
if you'd seen him
brush against me in the dark.
A bit of a rough draft for K's prompt at Real Toads
Note: titer is a medical term. It's a measurement of the amount or concentration of a substance in a solution. I kind of liked using it as a verb, but I've changed to the more accurate (and grammatically correct) titrate.
Sunday, February 15, 2015
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About Me
- Maude Lynn
- Anybody who has survived his childhood has enough information about life to last him the rest of his days. ---Flannery O'Connor
19 comments:
There is a dark side to keeping promises - sometimes they a better served when broken.
Hey MZ--there's a real feeling of pain here--especially conveyed by the second stanza, with all the "nettling" words, compounded by your "brushing" against him--and the him could almost be grief here, or another lover, of course--it all has a real resonance--
I wasn't sure if there was a typo in first stanza--titer the truth--whether you meant tilt, or alter, or tighten--all of which work and this may too--I ask because my computer does such weird things sometimes, especially with poetry where one is using words in unusual ways--
But the whole thing really pricks. Thanks. k .
No one writes or expresses it better, MZ! Yes, I could feel the pain.
Oh yes, those promises we break come back to haunt us.. especially if it is too late. I like promises I can keep.. but there are days you give away those words too easily..
Love your use of the word titer, here. I'm very familiar as my dogs have Valley Fever and we check their titers often. I felt the regret in not being able to keep the promise, sidling up to the excitement at the prospect of the breaking. Isn't that the way?
Titer, yes! I feel like I could touch the ominous surface of these verses... and like the other shoe is about to drop.
The road to hell is paved with....well, you know the rest. This is sharp and painful and potent.
Grief makes a good liar,
and I was willing to titrate the truth.
Oh, yes, I understand this... so painful all throughout.
My reading of the poem was wholly in the direction of a lost (dead) other (that titration!) until the final lines. Deathbed promises ... can marital promises be as equivocal?
Whew! The hairs on my neck stand up to their own confession of convenient lies under compulsion--rare, but there. And when someone is not a liar, how to misplace and forget the lies? I always think confession is good, but sometimes it defeats its true purpose--like trust, for example.
Those first four lines are a hammer for the nail of this poem, driving us into a confrontation with the shades of truth we wade through, discard or present, and the darker need for a private one--great new word also, thanks.
this is so powerful
i'm a chemist by long ago education
and am a bit nonplussed by "titrate the truth"
maybe i'm too literal
that last line hits like a hammer
cheers
jzb
So honest and painful it renders me speechless. You have said it all, MZ, to perfection. As always.
Pain lurks and I, too like titer as a verb-very clever, MZ~
Broken promises leave such pain...a beautifully written piece about pain
"Grief makes a good liar." This is one of the wonderful lines in this poem.
My goodness. Just ... wow.
"Grief makes a good liar,
and I was willing to titrate the truth."
"I'm stung by what's taken root -
nettles, proof
of the vows I've not kept"
"if you'd seen him
brush against me in the dark."
… so many times we hurt the other even more by trying to make things easier… So well penned.
whew, that is a killer final couplet ~
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