National Poetry Month: Week 3

To celebrate National Poetry Month, several of us are sharing poetry with you on Thursdays in April. Today's poem is about something that I need to practice more: FORGIVENESS. 

I love this poem because of the imagery it conjures up. The "cuttlefish of my ego that scuttles backwards, spewing out clouds of ink" describes me pretty well when I know I need to apologize or express forgiveness. "Time's slow ambulance drawn by a brace of snails" is the exact way that time seems to move when we are getting over being hurt or need to repair the damage we ourselves may have inflicted. 

Forgiveness
by Henry Carlile

I'd like to turn the other cheek,

the one I haven't shaved yet,

but something stops me

like a jab to the solar plexus,

a blow to the immense 

unmissable cuttlefish of my ego

that scuttles backwards

spewing out clouds of ink,

self-consoling platitudes

like she wasn't worth it, or

I'm better off without her,

which of course do not console

because they are platitudes.

And time's slow ambulance

drawn by a brace of snails

arrives too late to do anything

but remind us that this

was the scene of an accident

long after the damage

has been swept away. 

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Carlile, Henry. "Forgiveness", Poetry, February 2001. 

You can find out more about the poet here. 

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Be sure to check in with Kym, Kat, and Sarah for more poems of forgiveness today, and join us next Thursday for our final week of celebration of National Poetry Month. (And remember that any time is good for poetry, not just Thursdays in April!)