Wednesday, February 29, 2012

New Wine


I wipe my face
and come away --
I am bleeding
somewhere deep inside.
Given, not enough
to kill,
but still.
I'm bleeding
full and bright.
I am pouring out
of myself;
I cannot be contained.
A broken vessel
will not hold
new wine.
Old skins burst,
they break;
I bleed.


  1. I think that you and Mike would have a lot to say to one another :)

  2. The image and the poem go well together, each informing the other. Thank you for sharing this lovely blog post.

  3. Karen, I read your poem and got one from it. Thank you, dear. Hope all is well.

  4. It does seem to be becoming harder to contain every new thing that comes along. I am tired of caring about 3g this, 9g that new fad over there, old fad resurrected over there.

  5. This is so close to home at the moment that I'm in danger of missing the metaphor! Lovely read though.

  6. Bug - I can't wait!

    Carol - Welcome, and thank you. Thanks, too, for your kind comment at Bolts of Silk.

    Christopher - Much obliged! I loke your new profile pic, too!

    Walking Man - Isn't it wearying? Keeping up is almost too hard to do.

    Titus - I hope all is better for you and yours. I imagine you have many poems on the subject yet to come.

  7. Love it ! To the point,precise and beautiful.

  8. Thank you, Dr. Mandeep! Thanks for reading.

  9. what a powerful picture that guides the reader to understand the poem

  10. very deep, love the metaphor. i can relate to these words.

  11. Why have I not been following you? I'm so confused. This poem I love...yes, I connect. I like to use the phrase "hemorrhaging poetry" my friend. Yes, much to talk about.

  12. SzelsoFa - thNks. I wish I could remember the attribution for that one.

    C - That, for me, besides the song of language, is the best thing about poetry--that we cand find ourselves therein. Thanks for reading and commenting.

    Mr. linthead - I've wondered the same thing! LOL I love that phrase, "hemorrhaging poetry." That's exactly how it feels.

  13. I'm always stunned by the perfection of your poetry, karen
    this was so simple, so compact, and yet so powerful
    i study it, say, "how would i have written this?"
    not nearly as well, that's how
    you're a joy to read