The Samerjian Myth Drawer

I’ve enjoyed writing for many years. I'm dedicating more time to the craft in my retirement days.

The Samerjian Myth Drawer

The Samerjian Myth Drawer was full when I opened it

I had a lie in my hand but there was not room for one more

No legends allowed

No tales of fairies or imps or elves

No space to scrunch in anything at all

No matter how small

I knew not what to do

Always before

When I brought them to this drawer

I could drop them here so they could keep each other company

But never see

The light of the day

Or the moon at night

Or the masses of people

Who might hear and believe

And thus be deceived

I promise to be good, the lie whispered in my ear

I won’t say anything that anyone can hear

Everything I say is a lie

I’ll say

And that’s the truth of it, anyway

Ok?

Let me play

Whaddya say?

Hey hey

The Samerjian Myth Drawer started to steam

Or was that smoke?

The center of the drawer began to turn orange

And then red

A bright, brilliant, burning hue that looked like the spot down deep

In the center of the campfire

Under the logs where the glow

Is so hot it can show

Ore how to move like liquid

For a time

But it will harden again

In a new form as it cools

Then the drawer made a sound like a laugh

Bwahahaha

And I took a step back

And the lie squirmed in my hand

Still writhing and wriggling and whispering in the air

Farther from my ear

But I could still hear

I slowly opened my palm and let it go

Said it out loud

And then it acted all proud

Like it was real

And I could sense and feel

How highly it thought of itself

But not me

I began to be

Sick to my stomach

Bile came the mile

From the bottom to the exit

And I doubled over

To release it

And that was now free, too

And now bwahahaha

Came from the gob of the lie

And I wanted to die

As I looked behind the Samerjian Myth Drawer

And saw one more

The real one

Chained and closed

And hidden

From view

So that you

And I

Can’t place our untruths there

And instead we’re forced

To set them free

I was right about the capacity

But wrong about the tenacity

It can’t defend itself

It needs help

And a guardian

To allow access

That’ll be best

Wish me well and success

As I attempt to set free

And safeguard for eternity

The Samerjian Myth Drawer

And send this other impostor

To oblivion

© 2020 greg cain

Comments

greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on August 31, 2020:

Thanks again, Ms. Dora. I believe they all belong in the same place, actually, and that place is not out here among the happy, healthy people. Hope you have an excellent week!

greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on August 31, 2020:

Thank you, Devika. I do appreciate your kind words.

CaribTales on August 30, 2020:

Fun on the surface but deep deep underneath. What a journey to get rid of a lie! The image that's most interesting to me is having them "keep each other company / But never see / The light of the day." Good poetry.

Devika Primic on August 28, 2020:

You have a great imagine and so much to think about here.

greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on August 28, 2020:

Thanks, Eric. Yes, anyone who is familiar with Samerjia knows all about the myth drawers. Haha! Good weekend!

Eric Dierker from Spring Valley, CA. U.S.A. on August 28, 2020:

I like this. I found nothing unusual about it at all.

greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on August 27, 2020:

John - your comments always make me smile. And the fact that you always comment makes me smile, too. Have a great week, my friend. Hope all is well in the land down under.

greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on August 27, 2020:

Thank you, Abby. I'm glad you enjoyed reading it. Happy Thursday.

greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on August 27, 2020:

Thanks, RoadMonkey. I appreciate you dropping by for a look. Another fun idea to follow as it took me by the short hairs and pulled me along.

John Hansen from Gondwana Land on August 26, 2020:

After reading this, I am wondering what I’ve been smoking. A bit like a dream I woke up in the middle of, then went back to sleep to try to finish off and it veered off in a different direction. Interesting to say the least, Greg.

Abby Slutsky from America on August 25, 2020:

This has some nice imagery and descriptions. I enjoyed reading it.

RoadMonkey on August 25, 2020:

That's a very interesting poem and well crafted.

greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on August 25, 2020:

Bill - thanks for the words. This one made me get up in the night to write down the opening line. Then a few days later I found the note on my desk as I was cleaning and tossing out old papers. Glad I found it and happy with it being a 60s-era poetry slam reminder. I'm good with that.

greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on August 25, 2020:

Lorna - if we don't find the key, I'll bust it open with a big old rock or something. Can't let this stand! Haha! Thanks for dropping by to give this a read. Much appreciated. Have a good week.

greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on August 25, 2020:

Thanks, femi. Sometimes we don't know where the words will go until we get there. That seems to be what happened here. Happy Tuesday.

Bill Holland from Olympia, WA on August 25, 2020:

That was just plain old fun, my friend. Reminded me of some poems I would hear in coffee shops back in the 60's. I don't know what those poets were smokin' back then, but they would wonder the same thing about you after reading about your myth drawer. lol Great fun!

Lorna Lamon on August 24, 2020:

I think that lie stole your right to the truth Greg, however, all is not lost, you just need to find the key to that chain. I loved this poem full of wit and innuendo. Your imagination knows no bounds.

femi from Nigeria on August 24, 2020:

Deep complex yet it speaks.......true?Dont mind me just fooling around

Shauna L Bowling from Central Florida on August 24, 2020:

Hip Hip Hooray! Yippee Cayo Cayay!

greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on August 24, 2020:

I'm with you, Sha Sha. And that's a great way to put it - they need fuel to survive. Here's hoping we can all keep the fuel sources at bay and just be on our way, g'day g'day.

Shauna L Bowling from Central Florida on August 24, 2020:

Petty deep poem, Box, but so true. Lies need fuel in order to make a mark. Ignore them. Let them dissipate into thin air.

We'll all be better off for it.