Well Worn
A poem about useful things, and some thoughts about song lyrics
Do you ever find the seeds of a poem in a song? It happens to me all the time. Earlier this week I posted a poem attempt for The February Poetry Adventure that used not just the daily word as a prompt, but also two song lyrics I’d typed into a note on my phone the previous weekend. It was still open when I returned to the Notes app and so I just started my poem right there and incorporated the text I’d already typed. It was a fun challenge.
Another time I wrote down a lyric from “The Stars Are Underground,” by The Frames. Actually I wrote it down a bunch of times. I’ve found it in notebooks and I have at least three different Notes that contain the words I thought I was hearing, “Tell the rain that you saw me.” What’s funny is that’s not actually the line. Here I was getting all inspired by a misheard lyric. What Glenn Hansard is actually singing, is “Tell Mairead that you saw me.” I mean, it’s his song, so it’s up to him, I guess. But I sorta like my version better. No offense. And eventually, after writing it down over and over, it turned into a poem that I’m rather fond of.
Today’s poem came courtesy of another lyric that stuck in my head. This one is from the Counting Crows song, “Scarecrow.” Man, that Adam Duritz writes some incredible lyrics. Sometimes he inspires me. Sometimes he makes me feel really sorry for myself that I can’t write like him. The lyric I chased around in my head was this one:
She dreams of sunlight, sings of smaller things
White sugar bowls and wedding rings
In the end I just hung onto the sugar bowl and let the rest of it go for now. But maybe it will come back someday and spark another poem.
What about you? Are there songs or singers who make you want to be a better poet? Or whose lyrics keep popping up in your poems?
Well Worn
We are sitting
at the table
over breakfast,
the newspaper strewn about,
its purpose
fulfilled by our attention
Our mugs of tea,
sipped to half-full
Bowls pushed
to the center
of the table,
A mere ring of milk,
a stray oat
speak of their recent use
Our graying heads bent
over the day's news,
our midlife eyes
bolstered by readers
The table traced
with lines revealed
by the sunlight, like a candle
reveals a secret code,
the proof of many meals
shared
Only the sugar bowl
sits pristine, unused
because we sweeten
our tea with honey
Lonely
in its flawlessness
A perfect object
in a room of well-worn,
useful things,
like us
And for a moment
I regret its purchase
to replace its sister
with the broken handle
The Public Domain Poetry Project has reached its halfway point. But there’s still plenty of time to take part. You can read about this week’s prompt or catch up on past weeks here.
It’s Valentine’s Day, so lest you accuse me of lack of romance, here are links to some love poems I’ve shared in the past.
Thanks for reading, everyone.
Love, love, love this poem! Just beautiful. "Like us" hit me.
Thank you for sharing this one, Tara! ❤️
‘in a room of well-worn,
useful things,
like us’
Love this line.