The Samerjian Myth Drawer
I have been writing off and on for many years. Now that I'm retired, I'm dedicating more time to the craft.
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
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.
Dora Weithers from The Caribbean 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 Queensland Australia 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.