ODOP: What to Do with Emotions

I was inspired to renovate and refurbish this old poem after reading nochipa’s Emotional Trash Burning.” Go check it out; that blog is full of all sorts of goodies.

I’m a cautious person, but I read a lot, and intuited
The Modern Heroess is always moving, wild-wayed, uninhibited,
So when some loves chanced my way
I let them all loose one and the same day.
Out on the lawn I spurred them on –-
Horses forced to gallop in the heat,
Firecrackers set off the crack of the rainy Fourth!
They laid over on their side and fizzled;
They were gone.

And so again, when the replacement came,
I went back with the instincts as old as my name:
I bottled my love
(After a long process of refinery that took
Many a purple-stained finger).
I brought it down, victorious, to
Cellar, and stored it aside the ‘High Spirits’ of Grandpa,
Dead long ago. Left it a hundred years or so.
Came again after having long forgot it,
And found (should have known) that neglect had rot it.

I hadn’t much time left to learn
(And lucky I was in a poem
Living longer, deeper than we do in prose).
While waiting on my love’s sick ripening
I had read what the stuffy old sages’d had to say,
And upon a third heaven-sent chance
I treated my loves as tendered plants.
Occasionally a pretty whim I left to limb,
But mostly it was pruning. With each shear they grew bigger.
I had more than enough but not too much, and not one was tame, but each firm and true.
Don’t think I could no longer call my life mine;
While gardening I had plenty of time
To take my hatreds to the stables, fire off all my resentments,
And store all my miseries in cellared bottles.

Copyright 2010 Jobey George.



  1. nochipa said

    I especially love the line about the purple stained fingernails. You have given very tangible images to this abstract “feeling”. Well done. 🙂

  2. Thanks very much! I have no idea, incidentally, how it even occurred to me that winemaking would involve such stains. Normally I can’t imagine practical things like that in the least.

  3. Lelo said

    In a poem, a lucky one indeed. I really like this! Gives off a great wild feeling, as if the reader has just missed those horses passing by.

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