She ripped open seams . . .
slit through emotions,
shed the niceties.
Cruelty unmasked.
Avoid at all costs.
I’m hosting Tuesday Poetics at dVerse today, the virtual pub for poets. Prompt today is to write a poem using the word “shed” – or a form of the word. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
Love this image with your poem. Ripping open the seams in this case is a terrible thing, it’s as if the speaker had let go of everything which makes her kind and nice. That she’s been torn apart so many times, all bets are off.
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You’ve read it well.
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Thank you. It was beautiful 🙂
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Sometimes i wonder why… but some people just never tries… avoid I agree
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Sadly in some relationships it’s very hard to avoid. I always had to walk on the proverbial egg shells with my mother. She could be wonderful and then explode. Thankfully only verbally….but that can rip at your seams as well.
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You’ve described my mother as well. It made for an interesting childhood.
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That is so sad, Lillian, to experience that tension.
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Thanks for the warning, Lill! Ripping open seams comes across as so violent but some people can do it so deftly we don’t notice until it’s too late.
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Oh I so agree.
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The cruelty is raw here Lillian.
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Oh yes….cruelty can flay you raw….and sometimes with only words.
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Yes, I agree.
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Seam rippers can do a lot of undoing in a short amount of time. That drop of blood on it is a great visual.
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Interesting! Actually that’s a photo of my seam ripper (I only use it on cloth or to untangle knots in threads or yarn!) and it has a tiny piece of red plastic on that end. But you’re right. It does look like a drop of blood and that certainly adds to the poem!
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oh wow, I thought you found that image out on the net and purposely chose it because of that. it was meant to be!
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I liked the line about unmasking cruelty.
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Thanks, Frank.
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Love how the efficiency of words conveys such a clear message. Yikes.
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Ah…yikes says it all. Glad you enjoyed….or “enjoyed” may not be the right word!
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lol…
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I wonder if we are to avoid her, or if her cruelty is her way of avoiding being unmasked.
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Now that is a very interesting way to look at it!
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🙂 Could go both ways, maybe.
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I have such a strong image of this woman. It’s brief, but chilling.
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Chilling indeed. Lovely one moment and the next she can make you feel like the back of an upholstered couch that is being shredded by a cat’s claws.
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Wicked little seam puller!
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Wicked indeed.
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A very familiar piece of weaponry. My mother was an amateur seamstress who was offered a job in a shop. She turned it down — nursing paid her better.
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Hate to admit it Lillian, but I’ve gotten to that ragged place, but I need to be torn to my limit before I get there…
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I think we’ve all been pushed to our limits at times. It’s what we do when that happens and in the ensuing moments that matters.
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Shedding Shadows
No Longer
Storing..
Darkness
Comes out to Play
Best Friends Within
No Longer Enemies
LoVE Rises Higher Out
oF
dArk..
Freeing
Jungian
Philosophies
ReNeWinGFReSHinG
uP Synchronicities oF LiFE
Shedding MaGiC MoRE GiVinG
Shedding
Storing
Less
Freer NoW of
Cultural Clothes
BLack And White Abyss From: Grey
SHades to: Beyond Rainbows Colors Gold…
click
click
click
HoMe..;)
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Shades of rainbows….clicking our heels together to make that joy happen! Glad to see you here, Katie!
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As Always Thanks
For the Prompt
And Inspiration
Of Your Poetry
Lillian..
ALWaYS
Rejuvenating
With JoY..
SMiLes
A Shedding..:)
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That context in which you use the phrase “she ripped open seams” here is shiver-inducing in the best way.
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AH yes….and meant to be!
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Oh my. This hits desperately close to home. Wonderfully penned…
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Thank you, Violet. I’m sorry this hits close to home for you too.
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Wicked little instrument; clever poem. Reinvention requires pain.
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And when the tongue is the seam ripper…lashing out….wicked and devastating it can be.
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This metaphor is downright visceral. Well done.
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Thank you…appreciate your words here!
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Oh, I have known some of these people who shed the niceties and let it all hang out! I avoid them with a passion!
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Oh yes…avoid them…but when you cannot…gird yourself to hear other words in your head!
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Yes!
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I poured frustration every time I used a seam ripper! I love your use of it here 🙂
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Ah…now that’s the other side of the metaphor. The person wielding the seam ripper…the lashing out with the tongue. What is going on with them? What causes them to do that?
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Yes, I know this. I’ve seen the look in the eyes. Run for cover.
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Yes indeed!
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When one sheds all layers and bares the truth, it is hard to deal with.
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Yes.
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I can relate to the seam ripper!
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Hah! And if I don’t go metaphorical here….it is similar to “ripping out rows and rows of knitting…
metaphorically: stripping one down to the bare bones (needles)
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I love that except for the last line, this little seam ripper could be a tool of mending or destroying. Beautifully taut.
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Exactly! Use the tools you have wisely!
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Seam ripping as flaying! Stark, heart-rending imagery so eloquently stated in so few lines. I’m undone, lillian! 🙂
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oooh…. did not mean to make you undone….need to do some sewing to put you back together again! 🙂 Glad you enjoyed.
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I like this! I have never been craftsy with my hands except for cooking. I love the thought of ripping open seams, unmasking cruelty. I like your seam ripper too. I still have one from my ancient home ec days but alas, it lies idle in a junk drawer.
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Glad you enjoyed, Toni. My sewing machine did not come with me in our move to Boston some 20+ years ago. It was well used though when our children were small. These days, I use my seamripper to untangle knots if I’m mending by hand. Yep – I do mend. 🙂
As a metaphor, it’s an entirely different thing!
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I too mend. It is the only sewing I can do! I am a whiz bang darner of socks.
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So stark and raw, Lillian, in only a few words. And the image works so well with it–stark.
Do you ever get a scene in your head from a poem? For some reason, I got an image of an eighteenth-century woman in mind. No, idea where that came from. I think “cruelty” made me think “Dangerous Liaisons” or something. . . 🙂
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Oh yes….I do get a scene or person in my head from folks’ writing. I particularly love Bjorn’s ancient librarian…and sometimes when I’m at the Boston Public Library which is quite beautiful, I think of him meandering through the stacks! 🙂
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Love that–traveling miles through your imagination. 🙂
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Loved your poem!
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Thanks, Annell!
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Wow! How quickly the scene shifted from innocuous to villainous. Beware the seamstress who rips without mending! Good warning.
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Oh yes….she can be cruel indeed! Glad you enjoyed.
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