recalculating how some things may fit together

it’s sterile here,
almost empty,
textile glaze lies
heavy in the air–
the size is good but
by the cut i see
that it won’t fit,

i know, you don’t like me to mention it,
so i stay silent, keep walking,
a traveler between loaded racks,

after years of sewing
i can see by how they fall
& how their seams are placed,
it will never work,

i run my fingers tenderly across
the fabric, it’s breaking in on me,
“i can’t” i whisper & then flee
outside,
sit on a splintered chair that scratches

my bare thighs and wait–
for this odd feel to disappear, for
season’s end or you to come
& take me home

.

we’re celebrating our 1 year dVerse anniversary in the pub.. join us for a special OLN tonight and some of the surprises we have prepared for you during this week

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82 responses to “recalculating how some things may fit together

  1. I get the feeling the narrator feels torn. Wanting it to fit but knowing it doesn’t, can’t talk about it because the other doesn’t want hear it. At the end, she hangs onto hope that this will somehow pass or the other would come back, together they return to comfort, perhaps of each other as it was meant to (“home”). Enjoyed this intriguing poem.

  2. So very poignant. Wanting to “fit” but the knowledge and experience that it simply won’t. It’s a poem that feels like it’s hugging itself with goosepimpled arms. I want to give it a cardigan. 🙂

  3. Life’s complications impact on us, woven into the fabric of our being. Some solve it fast others let it fester and rot their minds.It’s good to reflect and discover the solutions on our own.Wise thoughts Claudia!

    Hank

  4. there is so much emotion just running under the surface of this…on fitting in, or finding the right fit and realising it just wont and what to do next….seasons end itself is very evocative….in a literal sense the moment we realize we dont fit in the same kind of clothes anymore….or metaphorically in a place, a persons life…and where is home….

  5. this one really draws me in closely, Claudia. Your imagery is vivid. loaded racks, seems placed, fingers tenderly, splintered chair… i can feel it and enjoy your very alive metaphor.

  6. Claudia this is breath-takingly good – you have managed to pin down what is almost impossible to express.. those shifts in our emotional life that often do not find words, but leave us reeling. So felt this.

  7. I love and agree with the idea that sometimes fitting in is just waiting until for that odd feeling to disappear. Wonderfully done.

  8. I agree, there’s so much more to this than the surface which meets the eye. Something or, someone doesn’t ‘fit’ us anymore. Uncomfortable being where you are, knowing what you feel and, wishing the season or how you’re feeling to change so that it all changes. Lots of things left unsaid for the reader to ponder upon. Another lovely, very atmospheric write, from your pen 🙂

  9. I sometimes felt exactly like this when learning a new form of needlework from my super-gifted maternal grandmother! Thanks for the wonderful memories, dear Claudia! Extremely well-composed, evocative poetry!

  10. This is sad and poignant for me… speaks of aging, our changing bodies, empty nests and recalculating oh so many things. We’re always trying to figure out where we fit in this life, aren’t we?

  11. skims the surface tension, trying to make it fit but knowing that the ‘seams’ are not quite right – can we cut it to suit – to gain a comfortability – realy felt the juxtaposition between ‘run my fingers tenderly across
    the fabric’ then to

    sit on a splintered chair that scratches

    my bare thighs and wait–
    Brilliance Claudia – think this will play over in my thoughts all evening – Happy Anniversary to us all and to you and Brian with huge warm hugs and thanks – Lib

  12. The poem creates an atmosphere of emotional freedom despite the oppression of another’s denial. I agree with Becky you’ve captured something indescribable, yet somehow paint the picture in my mind. Brilliant.

  13. Claudia, You have such a knack for writing poetry with almost hidden meaning, that each reader will see something different in depending on their own lot in life. And it doesn’t matter that I don’t know exactly what you were thinking about that didn’t fit, because I have my own ill-fitting things that allowed this poem to speak to me deeply. Peace, Linda

  14. I enjoyed this. It makes me think of life and the many quilts different family members have made me over the years. Some pieces held strong, while others pulled away and frayed. You captured this well.

  15. Wow that’s raw. I love how it feels. A stark feeling in the beginning–the truth. And it felt like I was there, as you are always able to do. A smart sadness to it. No fluff and agony. Just the facts in eloquence. Love it

  16. I’ve generally not been able to hold my tongue when things don’t fit…perhaps that’s why I’m often left at home. 🙂 Another fine verse.

  17. Another fantastic magical mystery tour Claudia, I start off thinking I know where we might go and then you throw a few flicks and curves in and we are off somewhere else. Love travelling with you as always, great poem x

  18. Claudia, I’ve always admired people who can communicate with cloth, know the warp, weave, etc. Needlework, I can do (it’s painting with thread) but sewing…not so much 😉 This is lovely and as usual you tied it up beautifully with thoughtful ending

  19. the pullings of all those pulls!

    “‘i can’t’ i whisper & then flee
    outside,
    sit on a splintered chair that scratches

    my bare thighs and wait–”

    fleeing, making decisions, and being pained by the waiting, i really feel that; thank you claudia

    and big, more pleasant congrats on a year of much valued effort and work 😉

  20. Lovely as always Claudia. It left me holding choices and hope that perhaps I too can tell when things fit, or it’s time to let them go.

    You’ve gotten so many congratulations on your wonderful work at Dverse. Wish I could say something unique, outstanding and memorable. But, all I can say is Thank you and send you blessings. You are so special, giving, talented, intelligent and there’s so much magic in your heart that actually it is your writing that blesses us.

  21. I know where you are, but this is a poem that I will take to bed with me tonight, when I close my eyes, so that the images will come together, and settle into meaning.

    Claudia, I wanted to thank you for everything you do for dVerse and the community, and for giving me the opportunity and privilege to be part of this wonderful team. Happy anniversary!

  22. There are clues here I recognize. It’s impossible to sew or write in a “place that doesn’t fit”. I have the feeling you found the ONE who came and took you home and that comfy couch, that holds you close, isn’t scratching your legs either. Congrats on a great year of fabulous poetry production, my dear friend. Your poetry is always, ALWAYS new, fresh and surprising!

  23. The discomfort of jumping from the known into the unknown and finding one’s way…poetically and beautifully, uniquely expressed. Great write, Claudi!

  24. Claudia, Your first line sets the tone for the entire poem. “it’s sterile here” tells me that it is an absolutely impersonal situation. I do hope your outfit finally adjusted itself to your comfort zone.

  25. I read layers in this, Claudia, and I don’t mean fabric ones. You created the feeling of shopping-angst, the kind that brings us face-to-face with our flaws. And the final stanza was perfect.

  26. “by the cut i see
    that it won’t fit,
    i know, you don’t like me to mention it,
    so i stay silent”

    You are so good; this is exactly what I do too. 🙂

    This is so deep, soft, and moving:
    “run my fingers tenderly across
    the fabric, it’s breaking in on me, … [especially this line]
    “i can’t” i whisper & then flee
    outside”

    “for
    season’s end or you to come
    & take me home” … Perfect ending. Is this over, or do we still fit? The fabric is an excellent metaphor.

  27. Oh the angst of a misfit. Even read straight as a shopping poem, this is superb, but you have woven so much into this of relevance to many scenarios as to raise it to another level.

  28. recalculating how some things may fit together…

    Hi! Claudia…Tks, for sharing your very poetic words…After reading your title the poetic words that I have quoted [below] “jumped” right out at me… “…it’s sterile here,
    almost empty,
    textile glaze lies
    heavy in the air–
    the size is good but
    by the cut i see
    that it won’t fit…”

    [Or sometimes how they may not fit? I wonder?
    too!]

    Once again, Congratulation! on your first year anniversary…over there at d’verse poet cafe…Well, deserved too!

    deedee 😉

  29. I love the way you feel and smell the cloth. I was there in the shop with you.
    As always, another allegorical dimension to your work.
    Happy Anniversary and thanks for your dedication to dVerse.

  30. really like the step by step manner you move through the piece, adhering to the senses quite nicely. The second last stanza is my favorite, I can’t and then I flee, I found really nicely put. Thanks

  31. I like this very much, Claudia – especially how you always find a way of ‘earthing’ experience. There is always a strong sensuality in your writing.

  32. Claudia, this is a gentle sense of conformity. I hope, in the flight, there is plenty of difference, not so much a standard model of pattern. I love this ‘fitting’ moment that forces the season to end.

  33. I like this…I had to read it twice and found the imagery of ‘seams’ and the sudden fleeing disconcerting in a good way. I feel like I am taking a glimpse into another world…as a poem should be in glimpses that build upon each other.

  34. Pingback: recalculating how some things may fit together « thebleedingpen

  35. Love the many layers of texture to this one…I feel the rough seat…but I am also feeling huge gratitude and love for the bosses 🙂 Thank you so much for letting me share in your journey, and for breathing life into this wonderful vision…here’s to an even more fantastic Year 2! 🙂

  36. Lovely and i like the metaphor of the fabric, it was fitting for this poem and moment 😉

  37. Fantastic imagery and metaphor. I just love the title, and this stanza:

    “after years of sewing
    i can see by how they fall
    & how their seams are placed,
    it will never work,”

    And thank you for all you do at dVerse. I am grateful for such a loving & nurturing community of poets!

  38. This is a fine drama. It asks me to think about whether it’s the world or me that doesn’t fit. Both pieces need some fine tuning, I’m sure. This is very fine writing supporting a big idea. Nice work.

  39. This poem is intriguing, I love the way you have woven it together but I shall have to read it a couple more times to decide what in my mind its means. All good, just very intriguing 🙂

  40. Home sounds so much like a wistful maybe after all those pent up tensions woven into what sounds like a tired spirit. Love the line:
    “a traveler between loaded racks…”
    I almost read the last word as “tracks”.

  41. I so love the emotional undercurrent you have woven into this piece…the breaking point, fleeing, and waiting for the “odd feel to disappear.” Dang good write!

  42. Arent’ we all travelers between loaded racks. Wow. There are so many ways to read this. It’s brilliant, Claudia. You have outdone yourself. Thank you.

  43. Someone mentioned stitching knowledge 🙂 yeah, I got that, metaphorically. Literally, it felt like someone stitching Christmas stockings or so.. maybe coz of the word season in the last line.

    Beautifully stitched poem, anyways 🙂 Thank you for the year of D’verse, Claudia.