#knickknacks - Hello Poetry

I am made entirely out of glass, if you look hard enough you can see the cracks gleaming through from my insides and begging you to fix me from the outside in. I am not something to be forgotten and yet I always am. I am put inside that box without newspaper to keep my edges safe or bubble wrap to hold me in place and even still those precautions will never be as secure as your hands once were to me. I'm getting colder with every piece of me that bleeds into the abyss and will never be seen again. By the time we get home next I will have lost another piece of me that you once cherished more than yourself. I'm apalled that you just let me fall away from you so easily when you once told me you adored me more than you adored most things. You polished me daily and put me on the highest shelf, I was the largest priority to you until I started falling apart again and you found other statuettes of glass to keep your company as you waited for me to glue myself together again. But that's not how this works. You can't just collect knick knacks like it's your hobby, and tell them you hold such a substantial amount of affection for them and move onto the next without even telling the prior that you were sorry you broke them but their needs were no longer important... or perhaps never were. As you caress the curves of every other goddess you set your eyes on and you become overwhelmed by the beauty of them all, I hope you shatter under the pressure like you shattered the rest of us. I hope you come to the realization that the amount of perfection that you receive in that specific juncture is not your decision any longer.

0

Dec 9, 2014

Dec 9, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC

MadamxSunshine

Your Collection of Knick Knacks

I am made entirely out of glass, if you look hard enough you can see the cracks gleaming through from my insides and begging you to fix me from the outside in. I am not something to be forgotten and yet I always am. I am put inside that box without newspaper to keep my edges safe or bubble wrap to hold me in place and even still those precautions will never be as secure as your hands once were to me. I'm getting colder with every piece of me that bleeds into the abyss and will never be seen again. By the time we get home next I will have lost another piece of me that you once cherished more than yourself. I'm apalled that you just let me fall away from you so easily when you once told me you adored me more than you adored most things. You polished me daily and put me on the highest shelf, I was the largest priority to you until I started falling apart again and you found other statuettes of glass to keep your company as you waited for me to glue myself together again. But that's not how this works. You can't just collect knick knacks like it's your hobby, and tell them you hold such a substantial amount of affection for them and move onto the next without even telling the prior that you were sorry you broke them but their needs were no longer important... or perhaps never were. As you caress the curves of every other goddess you set your eyes on and you become overwhelmed by the beauty of them all, I hope you shatter under the pressure like you shattered the rest of us. I hope you come to the realization that the amount of perfection that you receive in that specific juncture is not your decision any longer.

4

The golden baby In the last slice of Mardigras cake A half dollar Well after they stopped being printed A rare right sided conch When most others are left Are the rare treasures I find buried underneath The glass bird Dainty as can be And the size of a nail The miniature tea cup A full set Spoon and all The Minni and Miki Mouse holiday wear mini collectibles Miniature Kitty Kat Pouches In four different colors Are the tiny bobbles I couldn’t bear to part with The multitudes of dice From classic six sided To 8 To 12 Even dice in dice More than can be counted Erasers by the gazillions Stingrays, baseball gloves Eraser pencils with missing erasers And a baby head detached from the body Keychains, by the plenty Sunglasses, Weapons Dream catchers, bird’s with bells, all sorts Of strange and curious oddities attached to a chain Coins, many sizes countries Fake, real Dinar, Rupee, Euro, dollar, Replica of ancient yuan Jewelry- Don’t even get me started Necklaces, bracelets Rings and earrings Even though my ears aren’t pierced! My hoarding tendencies coming to light in this Curious collection of collections Also known as The objects in my closet

0

Dec 9, 2018

Dec 9, 2018 at 12:27 AM UTC

CynicalStrawberry

The objects in my Closet

The golden baby In the last slice of Mardigras cake A half dollar Well after they stopped being printed A rare right sided conch When most others are left Are the rare treasures I find buried underneath The glass bird Dainty as can be And the size of a nail The miniature tea cup A full set Spoon and all The Minni and Miki Mouse holiday wear mini collectibles Miniature Kitty Kat Pouches In four different colors Are the tiny bobbles I couldn’t bear to part with The multitudes of dice From classic six sided To 8 To 12 Even dice in dice More than can be counted Erasers by the gazillions Stingrays, baseball gloves Eraser pencils with missing erasers And a baby head detached from the body Keychains, by the plenty Sunglasses, Weapons Dream catchers, bird’s with bells, all sorts Of strange and curious oddities attached to a chain Coins, many sizes countries Fake, real Dinar, Rupee, Euro, dollar, Replica of ancient yuan Jewelry- Don’t even get me started Necklaces, bracelets Rings and earrings Even though my ears aren’t pierced! My hoarding tendencies coming to light in this Curious collection of collections Also known as The objects in my closet

46

Without you, I'd die you are the light of my life lighter, I love you

0

Jan 30, 2020

Jan 30, 2020 at 9:26 AM UTC

rizmack

-

Without you, I'd die you are the light of my life lighter, I love you

3

The cuties got old quick By being too ripe I drew faces on them instead Husband and wife They aren’t really knickknacks But I woulda had them encased I liked them so much They have a super cute face They are still on my desk Rosie discolored Paul has a mustache I’m sad to throw them in the trash But they gotta go soon Yes life even for a cutie to treasure Shouldn’t of been so sour I woulda eaten you with pleasure

0

Jan 29, 2020

Jan 29, 2020 at 10:37 AM UTC

MrsTimetable

PAUL AND ROSIE

The cuties got old quick By being too ripe I drew faces on them instead Husband and wife They aren’t really knickknacks But I woulda had them encased I liked them so much They have a super cute face They are still on my desk Rosie discolored Paul has a mustache I’m sad to throw them in the trash But they gotta go soon Yes life even for a cutie to treasure Shouldn’t of been so sour I woulda eaten you with pleasure

16

((Whit Holland challenged me to write about an ordinary object close at hand, and now I challenge you all to do the same. :) Use #knickknacks if you participate.)) I. Something about corduroy seems old from beginning and chocolate brown hides stains less effectively thank you might surmise (cat hair even less), but there is something to be said for free when shipping off to a second degree. Four roommates (one almost married), three lovers (one previously mentioned), two states (but not that far), and one hard-won diploma later, there is still something to be said for free, and for familiar and perhaps also for family. II. In my kitchen there sits a teapot small, porcelain, vaguely oriental, floral-patterned and stained in the creases, a ring of bergamot brown lining center. You live in that tea-ring, in faded exit signs, in owl-boxes and memory, bitter-sweet like Earl Grey. III. Mom says they just don’t make clothes like they used to: sturdy, thick- woven denim never popped a button, but cuter with the sleeves cuffed. It doesn’t matter how many of us wear Papa’s old jacket, it’ll still be here when we’re gone. IV. On my little table, between notebook and old lamp there sits a perfect pinecone. It smells a bit like my siblings on a fall day, drenched in leaf-bits, crunched underfoot and piled to make walls and beds and pillows. We were prepared to live there, beneath boughs, beneath clouds and dreams— maybe one of them knows why we left.

0

Jan 29, 2020

Jan 29, 2020 at 10:22 AM UTC

ellaird

Ode to a Hand-Me-Down Couch (and Other Knick-Knacks )

((Whit Holland challenged me to write about an ordinary object close at hand, and now I challenge you all to do the same. :) Use #knickknacks if you participate.)) I. Something about corduroy seems old from beginning and chocolate brown hides stains less effectively thank you might surmise (cat hair even less), but there is something to be said for free when shipping off to a second degree. Four roommates (one almost married), three lovers (one previously mentioned), two states (but not that far), and one hard-won diploma later, there is still something to be said for free, and for familiar and perhaps also for family. II. In my kitchen there sits a teapot small, porcelain, vaguely oriental, floral-patterned and stained in the creases, a ring of bergamot brown lining center. You live in that tea-ring, in faded exit signs, in owl-boxes and memory, bitter-sweet like Earl Grey. III. Mom says they just don’t make clothes like they used to: sturdy, thick- woven denim never popped a button, but cuter with the sleeves cuffed. It doesn’t matter how many of us wear Papa’s old jacket, it’ll still be here when we’re gone. IV. On my little table, between notebook and old lamp there sits a perfect pinecone. It smells a bit like my siblings on a fall day, drenched in leaf-bits, crunched underfoot and piled to make walls and beds and pillows. We were prepared to live there, beneath boughs, beneath clouds and dreams— maybe one of them knows why we left.

94