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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Katzaniel

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Something.
	That comes after nothing.
		Or rather, not much.
	There's nothing
		then something
	then something again.

Last night I got angry at my mother.

 

 

Have you ever had blood all over?
It's nice to have blood all over.
To feel the need to turn your shirt around, so you don't have blood all over.
To be alive to feel the need to turn your shirt around.
To turn your jacket inside out.
I wear a reversible jacket.
It's good, because then I can be alive to feel the need to turn my jacket inside out.

I sort of yelled, and stormed out of the room.

 

 

Sleeping, eating, driving.
It's the in-between that gets you.
It can get you
	real hard.
Sleeping.
Eating.
Driving.
The driving is what got me.

There really wasn't any reason, just a whole lot of stress.

 

 

There was a truck on my right.  Some kind of big truck.  A semi, perhaps.
I don't think that guy even knows what happened.
He's the one I was trying to avoid, you see.

The snow.
I think it's the snow that did it.
It's hard to remember, you know?
Because it's the in-between that gets you.
And you sometimes don't think about it until you need to.
Until they ask you to remember.

I think my wheels went over a ridge of snow.
You see?
Because then I was trying to keep going straight, beside a great big truck, trying not to hit the truck, trying so hard to go straight.
But it's hard, you know?
Because the next thing you know, you're sliding both ways, trying to steer clear of the guy on your right, trying not to hit the ditch, and braking.
Braking like mad.
I couldn't even tell you if I was pumping the brake.  I simply don't remember.
And then you are in the ditch, you're past the ditch, you're sliding like mad, and you're trying not to hit the vehicles coming at you on the other side.
Now you're *trying* to hit the ditch, because it's better than where you are, and you're still sliding like mad, and braking like mad, and I think it was my back end that hit the parked vehicle.  One of huge road construction vehicles, and the impact jars you but you're still moving.
You're still going, and you've spun every which way, and you're still braking like mad, and you can't get out of the way of the huge post that's coming at you.
Coming after you like mad.
And your life doesn't flash in front of your eyes.  Instead, you're thinking, "I might not live through this," and doing everything you can not to die.
Then you hit it, or you think you do.
It's hard to tell, because that's when everything goes blank, with a sickening crunch and a great big pop, and there's smoke everywhere, and I'm not even sure if I stopped right then or spun a bit longer.

Then you're sitting in your car, and it's stopped, and you're trying to figure out what exactly happened, and make sure you're all right, but there's still smoke everywhere and it smells like something's burning, you see, so you fumble for your seatbelt and the lock, and you tumble out of the car, and you stand there in the snow trying to signal to the other drivers that you're okay.
You're still alive.
You car might be totalled on both ends,
	but God, it's good to be alive.
But you don't even think that just then, you know?  Because you're wondering what comes next and trying to convince the helpful people with their phones that you're not in shock; trying not to bleed all over; agreeing that maybe they *should* call an ambulance; being told that all that smoke is just from the airbags; being steering back to your car and made to sit down; and asked lots of questions.

I came back to her after I stormed out.

 

 

What day is it?  Wednesday.
Where were you going?  To class.
Can you pull on my hands here?  Okay.
Does it hurt when I push on your neck?  No.

I came back, and apologized, before I went to bed.

 

 

Everyone in the waiting room has a story.
Nobody asks, because they mostly look so glum.
Or already have someone to keep them company.
Or you smile and share a glance,
	but for some reason no one asks.
Sometimes there's a friendly old lady,
	telling her life story to a younger man.
		A son?  A son-in-law?  Or just a friend?
			I never asked.
Or an infant, being held by a worried mother.
	He stops crying when I wave at him,
		though I think he's mostly just confused.
But they've all of them,
	*all* of them,
got a story.

But if I hadn't apologized, and if I had died today, she would have thought I'd died angry at her.

 

 

I managed to bruise my pinkie.
I have two scrapes on my left knee.  They're not bleeding; just red.
And a broken nose ...
"Good news about your x-ray!"
No, not even that.
A sore nose.  I'm told to be careful for the next 24 hours.
And follow up with my doctor.
And a bit of a headache, that may last a few days.
But other than that,
and my car,
things will soon be back to normal.

It just makes you think, doesn't it?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

OOC:

 

Yes, this is all true. This Wednesday I was in what could easily have been a fatal car accident, but thanks to my seatbelt and the airbags I am virtually untouched, physically. I wrote these poems that same day, when I finally had a moment to take it all in.

 

There's a sort of symmetry at work, here. Had I died, my Pen account would have been frozen forever at exactly 2,000 posts. Weird, huh? So I have waited until I had these typed up and to my satisfaction before making my 2,001st post. If all goes well, I will be around to make at least 2,000 more.

 

But yes, I am going to be all right.

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Thanks for sharing these poems, Katz. First of all, I'm glad that you've come out ok of it all.

 

As someone who also argues quite a bit with his mother (usually over really nothing) I can totally identify with the feelings in the poems; besides the fact of being in an accident of course, I've only had close shaves myself.

 

I always find it hard to comment on things people write, for which the inspiration comes from very personal experiences, as I'm never really sure what to say. Given that this piece is also poetry, it makes it even harder, since I've never been good at commenting on poetry, I just read them, and occasionally write a basic piece. So all I can really do is say that these pieces struck a chord in me.

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I'm very glad that you're ok-ish. And for what it's worth, this experience made for a very intruiging read, through it's format and the content.

As an afterthought, in the fourth code, shouldn't it be "comming at you like mad" ?

Just thought that that would make more sense, then again, it doesn't have to make sense.. since that would very much fit the content.

 

*hugs*

 

Thank you for posting, and continuing to post *smile*

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First of all, I'm glad that you've come out ok of it all.

Thank you.

 

So all I can really do is say that these pieces struck a chord in me.

Even if that's all you can say, it's really nice to hear. Thank you for taking the time to respond and letting me know that there's a reason I take the time to write these things down. :)

 

I think these sort of things would make anybody think, and realize that life's too short to quarel with those we love.

It is sort of a common theme, isn't it? Do you think maybe the in-between comments are overdoing it?

 

I'm very glad that you're ok-ish. And for what it's worth, this experience made for a very intruiging read, through it's format and the content.

Good. It's worth a lot. They are all very different poems (well, 2 of them are actually 1 broken apart - you might be able to tell which ones) and I wasn't sure if I should try to tie them together or not. Anyway, I know that's not exactly what you meant, but I do really appreciate any feedback I can get.

 

As an afterthought, in the fourth code, shouldn't it be "comming at you like mad" ?

I thought about that as I was writing it, and again when I was rewriting it, and now again after your comment. But I don't think I can change either the first sentence ("the post that's coming after you"..?) or the second ("coming at you like mad"...?). Neither sounds right to me. Can't quite say why. So I thought maybe the slight change would offset the repetition.. or something... or maybe I'd better figure out a better way to say that.

 

Thank you for posting, and continuing to post *smile*

As if I could stop, while I live, if I tried... :P But thank you all, too.
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