The Poetic Voice: Piles of Clothes
Updated: Jan 21, 2019
Piles of clothes used to make me real furious As I watched them slowly overtake my home was so pissed seeing clean piles all over Huge piles of dirt and sweat from afar Belching aromas of midday basketball Sneakers scattered with their cheesy smell And these infamous dirty socks rolling it all.
Son and husband try to hide them from me Smelly, unwanted piles of assorted sins I couldn’t help but to see them with disgust If left alone rapidly converting into rust Commotions and explosions of resentment I had But always I ended up forgiving the crimes I couldn’t help but to live in the house of piles.
I was going nuts when the little one came to us With all her baby type pink things, useful or not story books, pacifiers, diapers, caps and hats baby food, dolls and toys, lullabies music boxes All sorts of pinky clothes I have to clean and fold I pick up pink robes, pink pajamas, and pink gloves, but Having a feel that baby piles are touched by God’s love.
She’s running our lives oblivious of norms and rules Adding more and more pink piles to this house of chaos At home all of us are drooling and acting like fools Awaiting for the needs and wishes of our little jewel Piles are now happy, triumphant and in communion They aren’t in any rush for their shape-shifting evolution.
And now the piles feel empowered and untouchable And I heard them talking about that they are indestructible: We Have Taken Over! Disgust has Retreat! We Piles Are Victorious! Our Life is a Treat!