Nails by Melodie Yvonne Ramey
As I pull these crooked nails
out of these old tired walls
I think about my own foolishness
How can I believe with a nature impermanent
and fluctuating such as mine
that’d I stay in one place for this long
that’s I’d stay in one place for this time?
How am I going to fill all these holes?
and not just the holes in my mind
I need to find a place to heal mine
A place that can fill them all of the time
these gaping chasms in my heart
and my soul have finally combined
An author’s note about this work: Many people know I spend a lot of time writing poetry and lyrics outside of my daily photography and music reviews. I thought I’d share today a little bit of my writing process, and how sometimes my roaming thoughts turn into what they are. Here is a little example:
While trying to sell my house I had been doing a lot of packing, painting, and patching. On the particular day this poem was born I had decided to take down all of my wall art. I began removing the nails and patching the holes to prepare for painting. These thoughts were roaming through my mind as I worked…
“As I pull these crooked nails out of these old tired walls all I can think about is my own foolishness. How could I have believed with a nature as impermanent and fluctuating such as mine that I would stay in one place for this long? How am I going to fill all of these holes… and not just the ones in the walls. I need to find a place to heal for a while, a place that can fill the gaping chasms in my heart and soul.”
I immediately stopped and began typing. I just felt like there was something there, but I went back to work, and then I kinda forgot. I didn’t stumble upon it for a couple of months after that, and then when I did I began looking at the possibilities, and “Nails” came to life.
Well, there you have it. Maybe this didn’t turn out to be one of my most best and brilliant, but the idea is there. Maybe I’ll go back, and look another day. Until then make sure to go back and visit my original poetic works, Photographic Memories: In the Beginning and Photographic Memories: Meet me in the Middle.
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