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The Eclectic Pen - SOLITUDE


By: Barbara P. (gotchagal) - ,   + 19 more  
Date Submitted: 4/9/2010
Genre: Literature & Fiction » Poetry
Words: 188
Rating:


  A Bloody Mary
Made with Myers,
Thank you
Think I'll add
A bit more pepper
Another dash of Tabasco
Like it the way
I like it
Watch the video
of the movie I missed
several weeks ago
Eat some left-over
Chinese food
from the other night
Tell myself
I love you
Enjoying the freedom
of pleasing no one,
not even me
Catch the 10 o'clock news
while picking up
and putting down
a trashy book
I can read
at my leisure
Finish off the Burgundy
from this past weekend
when I finished off
my latest suitor
Warm up two
sausage/biscuits
I don't wish to
have go bad
Methodically
I am cleaning out
the refrigerator,
Trying to fill
the empty pit
that is me
Smoke another
cigarette or two
telling myself

I love you.

Barbara Gregory (Pearlman)


The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by Barbara P. (gotchagal) - ,

Member Comments


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Comments 1 to 4 of 4
Katie F. (katiez) - , - 4/12/2010 3:45 PM ET
Weird. I never come here, and I rarely read other people's poetry. I was just killing time, and considering whether I wanted a sausage biscuit enough to go and fix myself one.(You are obviously a Southern girl!) Coincidences, huh? I like your poetry! Katie
Debbie C. - 4/16/2010 2:38 PM ET
This poem made me feel lonely and a bit sad. If that was what you were going for - great job! Debbie (southern girl also)
Joshua C. (jconn) - , - 4/28/2010 6:18 PM ET
I really felt that the best part that captured the feeling of being solitary was made up by the two lines which said, "Enjoying the freedom of pleasing no one." That really captures so much of the essence of why people feel solitary, instead of feeling lonely, which is the opposite. Yet it followed what I found to be the most lonely lines, "Tell myself I love you". To me, it seems people usually do this when they long to be loved by others, not when they are feeling full of self-love.
Jenna C. (freeda23) - 5/6/2010 1:24 AM ET
I like this quite a bit. The small acts of living. The things we tell ourselves to make ourselves believe we aren't alone.... The small acts we believe are little treats to celebrate ourselves (because no one else is here to do it.) At times I believe these "treats" are simply a way to deflect attention from the external empty pit. A way to convince ourselves that we are comfortable in our choiceless(?) silence.
Comments 1 to 4 of 4