Pea
l
What I tell myself
To find peace, I should become
like a pea (post-pod), wholly
self-contained (if plain), without hand
to go unheld, back
to hold too much.
Except, even footless,
I’d roll to some dim chink where
I’d dry, wrinkle, winkle out
a sprout–starting out somehow
again (though tendrilled),
clinging to anything
once more, blossoms
in search of busy.
So maybe best to leave be, not become like
pea–but let snagged jags sprout, as they do,
their ragged growths of
pain, astonishment, wrinkles—hands stretching
from each chink,
back crumpling
with stumble, feet finding pace
each roll, each
start-again.
*********************
Kind of an odd draft poem for dVerse Poets Open Link Night. I don’t know what the poem’s about; I do like peas. (I don’t eat them with a knife.)
Explore posts in the same categories: poetry, UncategorizedTags: in search of tendrils, manicddaily, pea poem, poem about peas and peace-finding, poem re growth and feet
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ManicDDaily 
March 20, 2013 at 12:58 am
pea//ce.. ha..i do like peas as well…and their carefree rolling around on the plate…before they get eaten..ha…ok..i’m a bit in a weird mood…smiles… so much to say..they wrinkle in grace and they’re not edgy… i am sometimes…smiles
March 20, 2013 at 6:48 am
I am clesrly in a weird mood too, Claudia! My peas are running around on the floor somehow! Not even on a plate! (Agh.) k.
March 20, 2013 at 3:38 am
You don’t use a knife, but do you stab them with a fork. Podless, the must be lonely and rejoice to be gathered on a spoon before the final planting.
Concerning your poem: yeah, that makes two of us: I don’t know what it is about either. Should be isolated, wild-as-we-wish, free to show our wrinkles, raw and jagged? That is what I heard, though.
March 20, 2013 at 4:49 am
Ha, beautiful! Yes, I think your choice would be mine too. Mmmm, don’t think I’d want to give up my tendrils…
March 20, 2013 at 5:36 am
smiles…i like the rhythm of this k… blossoms
in search of busy…that is a packed sentence right there….what gives me hope is that re/sprouting…the renewal of life…the starting again is all part of the cycle….as is the drying out…
March 20, 2013 at 6:44 am
oh, i do like starting again… glad u don’t eat them with a knife
March 20, 2013 at 7:45 am
I REALLY enjoyed this poem– surprised to see that it is a draft– although perhaps that’s what I like: it feels fresh, light, yet conveys a message about being free to roll vs. sending out roots and shoots. Also, I am a fan of the unconventional rhyming scheme (which I use as well). Great write ~ (pea)ce, Jason
March 20, 2013 at 7:53 am
Thanks so much, Jason.
March 20, 2013 at 7:48 am
Like the word play and punctuation K ~ I can’t write a poem about peas but you do and other stuff too ~ Have a good day ~
March 20, 2013 at 7:54 am
Ha. Thanks, Grace. k.
March 20, 2013 at 10:39 am
“winkle out
a sprout” heehee I love that.
March 20, 2013 at 11:38 am
I get the idea of wanting to be like a pea …. totally self contained; but then the poem goes on (I assume) to show that perhaps this is really not possible as the pea will dry, plant itself, and sprout…..developing connections once again~ Perhaps it is not any easier for a pea OR a person to be self contained.
March 20, 2013 at 12:13 pm
Really like this, k. Of course, I’m always extra fond of metaphors from the garden, but there is also something round and universal about a pea, a little green world of its own, that you nail here as you explore the pros and cons of the vegetative state–peace there may well be an illusion we warm-bloods are on the outside looking in on, as you hint in a phrase I especially loved; ‘blossoms
in search of busy..’ and in the neat resolve at the end, where things fulfilling their purpose trump the outside cerebral arbitration of values that plagues (and of course, also refines) the human condition.
March 20, 2013 at 1:10 pm
Karin…you are one heck of a philosopher. I love what you did with the humble pea…and how it packs such a powerful message. This one’s a keeper.
March 20, 2013 at 1:15 pm
Thanks so much, Victoria. I felt pretty uncertain about it. Your kind words are very appreciated. K.
March 20, 2013 at 1:26 pm
I think feeling this way at times is a healthy way of letting oneself open for new direction or is a clue that you are dissatisfied with the status quo…you want to do more but not sure just what it is ;)Nice write, K.. K
March 20, 2013 at 3:53 pm
wonderful, karin. your last stanza is strong in force and descript. I also thoroughly enjoy the footless roll into some dim chink. The action caught me off guard and I went with it, happy to feel the sprout-starting and clinging. you make it seem as if real spring will actually arrive.
March 20, 2013 at 6:18 pm
hopefully you never choose to stay in a pod that can be opened and have us feel your light~even rock change shape when tossed or a continuos drip drop of water falls on it. Impressive piece~a touch of Wallace Stevens!
March 20, 2013 at 8:09 pm
I like the metaphor and the message. Nice write, Karin.
March 20, 2013 at 9:55 pm
I love it!
March 20, 2013 at 9:58 pm
Ha. Thanks, MZ. k.
March 21, 2013 at 3:12 am
I love it! So personal, so “start again.” Golly. This bites deeply. Do you remember mine? http://susanspoetry.blogspot.com/2013/02/pleasing-peas.html