Broken Things
(for Fran)
Often when her house is tidy
with the floors all clean and swept
she will slip into a back room
where the broken things are kept.
There she stands amid the clutter
of the puzzles, games and dolls
feels an inner sadness welling
as the tears begin to fall
on her knees to sort and gather –
finds a Ken who has no arms
someone’s pulled the head off Barbie
here’s a bracelet with no charms.
Dolly’s buggy wheel is missing
puzzle pieces need a frame
happy endings ripped from stories
dice and tokens but no game.
So she gathers parts and pieces
seeking one or two to fit.
But the chaos is too hopeless.
How does she make sense of it?
Then she feels the gentle presence
of His hands upon her own.
They are putting things together
better than she’s ever done.
There’s a piece – it goes with this one
here’s an arm, a leg, a face
there’s the ending of a story
here’s a picture of that place.
Oh how fast an hour passes
as they put a few things right
she may come again tomorrow
even slip back in tonight.
There is still so much to sort through.
Will she ever get it done?
“Do not fret my child, I’ll help you.
You and I have well begun.”
© 2009 by Violet Nesdoly
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I was reminded of this poem earlier in the week when I listened to 100 Huntley Street’s Magdalen John interviewing Justin Bieber’s mother (Pattie Malette). She told the story of a dream she had, where she was supposed be cleaning a house. Each room was the room of a girl of a different age, but they were all hopelessly messy with toys, pizza boxes, clothes etc. up to the knees. She didn’t know where to start.
On waking, she realized that she was the girl whose rooms she was to clean, and the mess was the confusion of all the stages of her growing up. It was a touching interview and hearkened me back to Fran whose life was similarly shadowed by a painful and confusing childhood, and this poem I wrote thinking of her. (The poem is published in the MSA Poets Potpourri 2009 anthology, River of Words.)
100 Huntley Street Interview with Pattie Malette Part 1 || Part 2
This post is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by the wonderful children’s poet Laura Salas atWriting the World for Kids.
Love this, Violet. It begins so simply and unassuming, yet it is, in fact, spiritually allegorical. Nice work.
Why thank you, Matt! My hope that it is uplifting.
Indeed, it is!
This would be a comforting gift to someone during a low period of life – and we all have them! Thanks for sharing, Violet. Love the title.
Thank you for the gift idea, Robyn. Yes, we do all have times when we need help putting straight the messes in our lives.
Your poem is full of rich imagery. Interesting connection to that dream of rooms — that could be its own prompt to generate new poems.
Thank you, Laura! What a great idea–to use the dream of rooms as a poem prompt on its own. I’m going to give that some thought.
It’s beautiful and haunting and works on so many levels. I especially love bracelets with no charms, happy endings ripped from stories and they put a few things right.
Thank you, Liz! We all hope for layers in our work, so I appreciate your comment that it felt that way to you.
Beautiful, nostalgic and heartening!
How healing, Violet. Lovely! And I also love your Mrs. Beasley poem on YDP!
Beautiful, Violet. I love the rhythm of your poem, which is rather a comforting and slow one, telling this story. And I too was happy to see your ‘purse’ poem on Your Daily Poem this am!
Thank you so much Iza, Laura and Linda! It was a nice surprise to find Mrs. Beasley on YDP today. (I submitted it long ago and had almost forgotten about it.)
Linda, about the rhythm, in some poems (and I think that happened in this one) I get a line or two that feels right, and I stick with that rhythm for the duration. I love when that happens, because the rhythm often brings with it an emotional climate, not to speak of structure and rhyme scheme (if it’s rhyming). I’m so glad you think it works.
A beautiful poem, Violet — emotionally moving with a shining moment of hope.
I love this poem! I have an attic full of toys collected over 25 years of parenting boys. Sometimes we go up there and just sort legos, or hot wheels… Starts out hopeless but is so satisfying to make even a little progress. I love the Comforter in your poem, who is always present to help and guide. Wonderful!
Thank you, Jama and Andi. I love that sum-up, Jama: “a shining moment of hope.”
Andi, you read the piece well. We need the Comforter at all times, but especially when trying to sort through a painful past. Thank you!
Violet, the photo captured me right away. The bisque head of my old doll is broken. The poem is lovely. In the middle of the chaos, the meter and rhyme give a sense of order, and make a highway for hope. The ending is so healing. I love the idea of broken toys being metaphors for the brokenness in lives.
Congrats from me, too, on your YDP poem. Sometimes I get in a rush and don’t click through, but when I saw your name, I definitely did!
Your poem here is mysterious and calming. My life feels like a room of broken things, but I know that I can get it in shape if I tackle it bit by bit.
Beautiful, moving poem. I found the words and sounds pleasurable to read out aloud (even if only to myself). Nicely done!
That is a touching and evocative poem, Violet. Thank you.
Your imagery is wonderful; I can see her standing among the broken things. And the perfect photograph to go with it! Haunting.
Thank you Linda!