Filtered Water
August 18, 2009
With delectable scrutiny she observes each
Drop of water as it passes through the filter in her Britta
She knows there is a common heritage
That exists in blood and water and gathers
All her senses to guard the gift
As it beads and falls into
The abyss below -
With an undefined hope she craves
Purity from this liquid
Witnessing only contaminated
Droplets reflecting what is
Untouchable
Once more she pours the water
Through the filter
She does not wish to die, not from
Filth hidden in what has promised purity -
Realization that life is all she
Ever possessed any game of
Chance with it has taken the fools lot—
“I want to live, not die,
I want to drink from the cup,” she cries out.
Warning denial is evident
Purity unattainable
Thirst unquenchable
Life unsustainable
bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2009 Like any addiction the addiction to being prefect sets chaos into motion – one of the best works I have read on this matter is Addiction to Prefection (The Still Unravished Bride) by Marion Woodman. I have read and reread it and is one of the works I keep close for reference.
August 18, 2009 at 5:57 pm
comments welcome -
August 19, 2009 at 7:12 pm
I love the analogy. I’ll have to get a copy of Addiction to Perfection. In the meantime, I thoroughly enjoyed your poem.
I think if I wasn’t held by Love, the quest would drive me crazy.
August 19, 2009 at 8:41 pm
Karen, I am so happy that you are held by that Love, it is evident in your work and photos – and what a blessings that Love is prefect where we fall short —
August 20, 2009 at 7:48 am
Hi, Barbara! I promise not to write a novel this week…ha! ha! I did the same thing to another friend last week, too. I get so excited when I see good work, and sometimes I can’t contain myself.
Again, I am excited by this poem. The filter is a wonderful symbol and one I have never seen used, which makes it even better. It is unique thinking. I also love how the poem begins. She observes each drop of water. EACH drop! That’s an example of how every word in a poem counts, and the word “each” says so much. She doesn’t just watch. She “observes.” Excellent!
I also like that the water goes into an “abyss.” And the ending is very powerful. I have a degree of OCD, and I can relate to the fear of imperfection. It is an attempt to control or “order” life, even though I know it is very irrational. The constant quest for perfection in my poetry is helpful. In other aspects of my life, it is self destructive.
You have captured it here. Thank you! I will check out Marion Woodman’s work, too. It sounds intriguing.
August 20, 2009 at 7:08 pm
thanks Julie, you can write a novel anytme you want. I really wish I sought a little more prefection I happen to be one who says well that is good enough (a little lazy maybe). O well I will try filtering that water one more time. bkm