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My Goddess of Home Furnishings

My Goddess of Home Furnishings
I watched you floating in your usual way, always in song.., though you could not see me. From between the racks of Men's clothing.., at the department store where we both worked. Reaching up to the light fixtures above,.. Like a Goddess fair and ringed in light, long, lithe arms reaching to the heavens. Beguiled, in utter fascination.., stood I, silently, thanking the heavens above. And the angels that bore you on wings.., down to to Earth for all to see. But I could never find the words, to tell you how I felt.., so afraid and shy was I. Every time you passed, my heart skipped a beat.., though I played so cool in my foolish youth. Then came a friend, bold, and brash, though wearing a mask to hide. the pain from the loss of his dear dad, bearing witness to, a sadness belied. In days attended at University, and shouldered, with inheritance, unasked for and unwanted. And nights blended in perversity, grew bolder, a life of arrogance, unchaste and haunted. This man I looked up to, and hoped would help me find, my way in manhood.., and in the wide world. One day he asked me if I knew of you, to improve his chance to meet. Oh, too easily I gave away, what was never mine to give. I told him that I'd heard stories, and said that you would go willing, to anyone that smiled your way... He told me of the conversation, where my words were replayed. Though only comical to him.., laid bare and stinging, the bargain had been struck, and I, forever damned. My heart sank in the knowledge of two betrayals, though one of them was mine... At last, cornered, I prayed for Rapture, and wished anywhere or anyone else to be. At the stockroom portal, captured, to be tried by those eyes bound in fury. Your hushed voice remained calm and measured, almost at a whisper. But those thunderous piercing, angry eyes, shot arrows through my heart. One last chance to refute my words you gave.., to find redemption, where none was to be had. You asked if the cruel words were mine. I tried to play it off as a child's scolding, when caught on the kitchen counter. With cookie still in hand beholding, the jar left shattered at your feet. I, who diminished in your gaze, retreated, for you knew the measure of my guilt. To live anguish borne days depleted, and to pleasures no longer dealt. You told me that you'd never speak to me, e'er again... and you held your promise true. You turned away that beautiful face, those twinkling eyes.., away from mine, now pitiful and reviled. No other punishment held so stinging.., even now, choked in my own repulse. Like a rasp upon my flesh covered rib cage tingling.., the bitter lesson learned from my insult. Now the years have flown.., though I've never forgotten. The day that I fell from your grace. and lost your kindness. My Goddess of Home Furnishings. I wish I could find you, and tell you that I'm sorry and.., how you touched my heart.., and still do. You took the light with you..., and I never got another chance. To take back my foolish words, and beg your forgiveness.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 3/27/2020 7:59:00 PM
wow, this was so interesting, and it feels VERY real. Did it really happen? I can imagine someone doing this kind of thing and the reasoning behind it. Loved it, and the title really drew me in
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Quoth Theraven
Date: 3/28/2020 3:38:00 PM
Andrea, Thanks for the comments and subject matter question. Forgiveness is such a funny business. Unfortunately, it absolutely happened just as written. -Richard
Date: 10/27/2018 8:48:00 AM
You had me at the title! it feels so honest and painful but mixed with sly wit... Enoyed this, so much.
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Quoth Theraven
Date: 10/28/2018 2:06:00 AM
I write like a hay seed, clod-hopper uninformed, though too proud in spirit. And sometimes, just spirit, will do...
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Quoth Theraven
Date: 10/27/2018 12:02:00 PM
Thank you P.S. Like my life, it is only a rough draft. I hope this week-end finds you well and writing. I've enjoyed reading your poems so much!
Date: 10/27/2018 6:50:00 AM
A powerful write. "No other punishment could be so stinging, even now I choke on my own repulse like a rasp upon my flesh covered rib cage tingling, a bitter lesson learned in pain. Hers and mine, combined by my words... Now the years have flown though I've never forgotten The day that I fell from your grace the day I lost your kindness" - What a great stanza. Masterfully done, there could be no improvement.
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Quoth Theraven
Date: 10/27/2018 11:29:00 AM
Thank you Caren. But I must admit. It looks twice as confusing here in the comments as it looks in the main body. This is a rough draft.
Date: 10/27/2018 6:20:00 AM
Words can hurt..sometimes there are no second chances. Your story rings so true. Well written!
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Quoth Theraven
Date: 10/27/2018 11:31:00 AM
Hello Vijay. I will be reading from your works this weekend. Like drinking from a cool, deep well. -Richard
Date: 10/27/2018 5:46:00 AM
You have awed me with the depth, purity in this sad, sad write. For once I in anger made disparaging remarks about a drop-dead gorgeous girl that I adored. That one tiny utterance was heard by her older brother's friend and he told her(to later get to date her). She never spoke to me ever again, 45 years and counting now. Great poem, a fav..
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Quoth Theraven
Date: 10/27/2018 11:54:00 AM
Hello Robert, As you can see it is rough. And probably should've never seen the light of day. But I'm glad we could share,..our two foolish falls from grace. Please see my comment to Vijay. I have so many wells to drink from! -Richard

Book: Shattered Sighs