Monday, August 06, 2007

A poem I didn't write...

but, wish I had.

Found it in a book called, Kiss Me Like A Stranger, by Gene Wilder.

"After A While"
Veronica A. Shoffstall

After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn that
love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't always mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn that even sunshine burns
if you get too much.
So you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure,
that you really are strong
and you really do have worth.
and you learn
and you learn
with every good-bye you learn.


good stuff, eh?

21 comments:

LL said...

Oh good Gawd, with my weepy premenstrual state, that just put me even more over the edge.

That is a great poem, but not for sad times like now. I'm putting on my smiley face, but I don't mean it deep down inside. I hate doing that, but it keeps me from losing my mind. *sigh*

Jean said...

LL, I know what you mean. A flood let loose for me.

kdzu said...

Lessons learned the hard way are those which stick with us. But they don't have to rob us of our optimism and looking forward to the future. Every new day is a blessing and a chance to experience LIFE.

bonnie said...

Yes, we do learn. But sometimes it takes us more than just After A While...it's after an extremely looonnng while. It's those times that hurt the most.

boneman said...

....yup. Or t'get hit two or three times just 'cause y'think.."no. This time it's different. This time it will be real."

And it isn't.

boneman said...

look under yer name on m'sidebar and you'll see another poet, and pretty good, too.

Erica said...

That was a f***ing tearjerker. OMG, WHY?

It kind of made me feel similar to the first time I ever got stoned and listened to Abbey Road, which was soon after Linda McCartney died, and I almost felt like I felt Paul's pain, so profoundly.

And then when you relate it back to yourself...and you feel your own pain.

Oy!

Erica said...

BTW, an addendum I felt I should add: I absolutely love Gene Wilder...one of the great geniuses of our time, comic or otherwise. Much like Steve Martin, they're both so earnest, and I think they both possess real Gifts from God.

Snog Dot said...

Why do you do this to me?

You KNOW it causes me to have brain seizures!!

You SO torment my soul.

Rantin' Ron said...

"decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers"

No truer words have ever been written.

You know me Jean...I ain't exactly a poet but I know one when I read one.

You ARE one.

Rantin' Ron said...

Just so you know....I realize that you didn't write the line I mentioned.

Upon reading the comment I wrote, I realized that you might think that I attributed that quotation to you.

I just meant that YOU ARE a poet.

Keep up the good work and keep decorating you own soul darlin'.

Irrelephant said...

Gene Wilder? Like the same Gene Wilder aka "Dr. Froedrick Vahn Fronkensteen" (*wink*) from Young Frankenstein? Wow, that guy's got talent.

Hammer said...

Very nice.

k said...

Hmmm.

Now why is it that this beautiful poem makes so many of you sad, but to me it seems comforting?

boneman said...

...did I save the gem? Yes. Right here. Fer you.

boneman said...

Hey, I can't see Nea's post anymore.
It starts to look like a post, but then, it's a page of advertisements. I try to look at her profile, but, it's not showing the right thing there, either.
Anyway, I know you and her converse on line some, and was wondering if you had her e-mail address to write to (not asking for the address, mind you. Right now, I can't get into our e-mail, either. Some danged thing is wrong with the computer. The others here in the offices still get their e-mails...just not at steve's staion.)

Anonymous said...

....so, what do ya get when y'have a painter who hasn't painted in a while?
Y'get a hot-tempered, quick reactin', loose cannon tryin' t'get some sense in the computer, but, then finding out that even when you go to all the trouble to eliminate the bad things (a b'zillion spams in the background of m'blog....which, by the way, isn't any more....and in that attempt to rectify things, y'eliminate the blog altogether.

DANG IT!
And then the stupid computer lady sez we gotta send them more money so they can "tech support" the flippin thing, but,,,,what the heck have we been paying for in the first place?!?!?!!!!!


DANG!
So, to get rid of any link to a bug, I dumped the blog.

and I so liked the name, even if it was kind'a hard to write down on a businaess card....

walking on alligators went down the drain at about 11;30 this morning.

;jhwe.ktvnrlktn;eroitun

(I do that when I get pist at m'self for movin' too fast.)

I should have kept the blog, called the support jerks first, then finding out that they weren't gonna help me, anyway, I could have kept the flippin blog.



..........guess I'll just have to write it off as bein' a man.

a boneman

k said...

Aw, jeez. How AWFUL.

I'm so sorry.

Andrea said...

Jean, I love that poem. I ran across it back in the 90's after a divorce and a few short term relationships.

It gave me lots of comfort and reminded me that I really was strong and I really could endure....and I learned and I learned. With every goodbye I learned.

Andrea said...

You should check out the book "Apples of Gold". It's full of little quotes, poems, sayings. Lots of good stuff in there. In fact, I think that may be where I originally saw that poem.

I have the book at work, I'll check it out tomorrow. There's another poem in it that I think you'll like.

Jean said...

Thanks, Andrea!