there are degrees of loss,
of forgetting & misplacing
that span a hunt for car keys
to that final tearing away of death
we need different words
for separations because some
carry more weight,
like that yielding
we call sacrifice
& own only in the process
of giving up
i have exchanged passion
for a flicker under my navel,
loosed this heart to fly,
and it returned eventually
but what he asks
is to lose myself in a laying down
of this us, trade eyes for buttons
& mouth for ribbon
sewn tight to my face
voiceless & unseeing
****loss free write for OctPoWriMo
***Okay, I was going to send something else to Dverse today, but this is the one I am sending; despite my tweet to the contrary 😉
Susan Daniels Poetry 
Your words speak volumes and touch me deeply. Peace to you.
Thank you, Morgan.
Wonderful thought-provoking poem, Susan. “I have exchanged passion for a flicker under my navel.” I know this line will follow me around for days. We must keep our eyes, voices, and navels ALIVE.
YES. We must!
That line is what my mind keeps coming back to as well… to quote Basho “to survive is not enough”.
Thanks so much, I am so glad you guys like that.
Hmm sad but great job! 🙂
Thanks, Becca.
A really touching poem … loved it !!!
Thank you, GS! Always appreciate your comments!
A precision-perfect placement of words. I have to say, I prefer this, Susan. It is thoughtful and INTERESTING. I love the themes you explore in this piece. I vote for this one!
Thanks, Soraya–tougher piece, but I went with it. Thanks for the input!
Touching and sad!
Ayala, thank you!
whew….that closure is breathtaking…the trading of the buttons for the ribboned face…loss on several levels in the silence….i like the bit on having different words for it as well…
Thank you, Brian. Sometimes what those we love ask of us is… Impossible, I think.
oh, that image at the end just breaks my heart. yes, sometimes, it is too much. turning a blind eye and living in silence… powerful imagery
Kelly, thank you. Glad it spoke to you.
Hi Susan… cripes but I keep wanting to give you a hug after reading your poems lately… Box of kleenex, bottle of wine and copy of Dirty Dancing in the post to you 🙂
Mike–you are wonderful! I am not falling apart over here in WNY, just being (sometimes brutally) honest. The wine & the Dirty Dancing might just brighten me up, though 😉
I am thinking I had better gentle it up a little bit–someone else sent me some gorgeous music the other day to cheer me up.
Nah – never write for your audience, write from your heart: that’s how you got your audience! And the free music and wine is a great perk
Hahaha–it most definitely is! have to write from the heart, or at least the solar plexus, which is where this one came from, after being kicked in it 😉
“Voiceless and unseeing” – now that would be a painful way to live. No relationship should expect that.
Exactly.
The opening provided so many directions to go that thoughts spun in my mind like satellites through space never expecting anyone could think of they could sew you (of all poets) into a rag doll. Who is this who didn’t get you? Devastating close deserving a rebellious answer!
Gay, thank you! The whole poem is a rebellion, I guess, because I could never do what is asked…
ehrr should be “that they”…changed wording midway through. Please forgive.
Not a problem at all, Gay. You have seen my grammar murders in comments, I’m sure 😉
I liked the idea behind the poem and you fleshed it out with a delicate brush.>KB
Thank you, KB!
loved the range you spanned with this poem.
Thanks, Teresa!
I have to wonder where all this comes from. I mean that in a complimentary way, Susan. Motivations are interesting, not as interesting as the words, but close.
Hey, Trent–just my life 😉
Very strong poem . k.
Thanks, K.
Sorry not to make a longer comment – it’s a really interesting piece, very tired.
No problem, K. Exhausted myself 😉
dang…strong images in this…we need different words
for separations because some
carry more weight…so, so very true…
Oh, thank you, Claudia.
This is heartbreaking.
Julie–yes, it is. The things that are asked of us that we can’t give.
I understand.
As always, your perspective, delivery, and message so enthralling and provocative.
Nelle, thank you.
Degrees of loss grabbed me. There are things that cause me consternation, melancholy and flat-out bawling grief. This emotional analysis is pure poetry.
Beth, thank you so very much.
So very powerful and poignant…loved both how it opens and ends especially…thought provoking write…thanks
Haunting. This one gets me right in the gut. Beautifully written and heart-rending.
Thank you, Emily.
oh, gosh, thank you!