Cardboard Box

Cast into a flimsy cardboard box,

worn out shoes and broken clock.

Paint stained clothes and dented pots,

out of print books soiled by water spots.

 

A cracked antique mirror, chipped picture frames,

a rusted shut tool case and old board games.

A dozen do-dads without a name,

lacking their newness shine, just not the same.

 

Things that once were bought as treasures,

now lost value like bloodied angel feathers.

Bygones hazy as dream-fields of heather,

passing through time no longer bothered to measure.

 

Long time cherished, loved, and needed,

Now sorted, reflected, rejected, and weeded.

Once held dearly as useful you see,

now abandoned as trash to be taken for free.

 

Cast to the curb without any cares,

a mess of unwanted, used, and dis-repairs.

You walked away from this sordid fare,

what hurts the most is you left me in there.

 

 

Jaclyn Millet Campbell   Dec. 16, 2014

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Something to Say

The night is young,
Our spirits shimmer high
Midst a mood tingling
With air vibrant and clean,
Oh what innocently concocted mischief
Can we drunken with the thrill of life,
Devise and glean…

-Jaclyn, 4/5/09

I used to write poetry on a fairly regular basis while in high school. I also used to keep a daily journal. Hunched over my flat, gray Microsoft keyboard, tapping away random bits of thoughts, memories and detailed daily events, my just-showered wet hair would drip water down the back of my t-shirt with the resonance of Atlantis Morrisett, Meredith Brooks, Susan B. Ashton and Suzanne Ciani echoing my own longing till the early hours of the morning. My enthusiasm for daily routine would be curbed and my personality muted by sleep deprivation somewhat the next day, but my secret life of writing sustained me through those tumultuous teenage years.

While I’m far from being a teenager anymore, life is still at times tumultuous. I do find I’m not as easily emotionally swayed and more grounded. I also now have a much clearer picture of who I am and what I want from life. But my passion for writing has never waned.

When I was younger I didn’t think I had much to share. Feeling lacking in most areas of experience, I doubted that I had anything to contribute to the world. I now know otherwise. While I have a lot to learn, I also have a lot to teach. I have something to say. For now, this is my voice.