Poets Workshop

Torn Teflon

They keep telling me how

strong I am, that I can do anything –

climb the mountain, solve

the problem.  “You can

do it” they say.  “We have faith

in you.”  I play along

because I have no choice.

Crying isn’t allowed.

Weakness isn’t permitted.

I know my thoughts come out

in cliché.  I can’t help it.

Sometimes repeated odes

are all that get me through.

Personal thoughts aren’t allowed.

Not today. Too much to do,

too many obligations.  I know,

I know.  Perfect isn’t possible, yet

it is expected.  Right.

I swallow a lot.  I want

to gag, vomit expectation

and responsibility in a puddle

on their shoe.  Maybe tomorrow,

Maybe.  But not today.

Today, I show my teeth,

they pat my back. Say

“I’m so proud of you,”

a grand grin on their face.

If only they knew. 

If only.

A. Godwin

This really made me think, and I got carried away.

I can imagine your family, etc., responding something like:

Presented on the Altar

We know how you feel,
but feelings aren’t relevant, are they?
Just your presence on the raised slab
with the other clichés chosen by The Family:

Lyn, with Seven Children, is a Writer,
Carol is a habit-wearing Nun,
Timothy’s a Soldier for Our Country
(he’s won medals for his skill with guns)

and The Dentist, Doctor, Business Executive,
Lawyer, Teacher, Plumber, Cop
make us all extremely proud.
You represent our Very Best. Of course
Sacrificial Cliches aren’t allowed Feelings

except Guilt – guilt is always allowed,
always present beneath the pedestal, waiting
with sharpened teeth
for you to jump.

Take care!

Roberta

I like your title Aubs.  To tear Teflon takes some doing.

I find your poem to be very "Yankee" and as such it goes the way I expected it to but the stng in the tail augers well for you.