Stuck
It all happened so fast
I was too careless,
my heart full of glee
blindly rushing forward,
now I’m in too deep.
Struggling against its grip
I succumb to its judgement
and await my demise.
Suffocation threatens
my last gasp
I push
I pull
I fight
It only strengthens the vice!
Panic leaks into my soul
Will I ever be free?
Wait–could it be?
a slight give?
a sweet release?
Could my soul bear to witness
a dream such as this?
It loosens
O joy! O happiness!
busting wide open like a wave on the sea!
One!
Final!
Tug!
–my jacket zipper breaks free!
Nice twist! I thought you were going through life’s every day struggles, but you were just “strugglin’”
And for me it’s a daily thing. Sigh.
Ha ha ha! I thought you were in quicksand and I was running toward you, throwing off my clothes, screaming “Hold on, Darla, I’ve got a rope!”. Good thing you had the skills to free yourself. Were you a Girl Scout?
I was a Girl Scout. For one day.
I am relieved you would help me in my time of clastrophobic trapped-in-my-clothes need. It happens all the time, too.
I had this happen in the dressing room just the other day. I went for the size 8 dress, and I KNOW I can’t fit into a size 8, and I ended up stuck in a little tube of fabric with both arms over my head, face buried, unable to get anything to grab hold of. I was terrified I was going to rip it and become the proud owner of a ripped, $200 tube of fabric that didn’t fit.
Yes! The panic is incredible isn’t it? You think, which is worse, paying for a ripped dress or running out into the middle of the store for the jaws of life while flashing everyone in sight like a crazed lunatic?
I was going through all of my winter clothes the other day, swapping them for summer and I tried on more than one garment that I promptly became stuck in. Needed the jaws of life to break free. And you’d think I’d donate these clothes, but no, instead I put them back and tell my husband I might fit into it again one day. Sheesh. I need to face facts here.
This was awesome Darla. I never realized while reading this one, that as always there is a twist waiting for me at the end.
Glad you liked it! I really do get stuck in my jacket more often than I’d like to admit. I’m clumsy and a magnet for things going wrong.
You had me going! Leave it to your blog, Darla, to remind me each and every time of my total naivety (and how amazing that is at my age with my life stats). LOL. This was pure awesomesauce.
Well, jezum crow! Good to know I had you going. I am terrible at poetry, I’ve always avoided it so I am forcing myself to write it more.
Oh, ya, and Jezum Crow! (This is my new favorite.)
as drowning is #1 on my all time fear/worst way to go list (long story) i found myself holding my breath through this. therefore it must be good….
I would say getting stuck in my clothes is a huge panic moment for me. I only have two serious fears in life: spiders and claustrophobia. My fear of being closed in can make me hyperventilate. So if I’m ever stuck in a jacket and there’s a spider in there with me, I am as good as dead.
i had a lifeguard throw me in the deep end of a pool at the age of 3 to teach me to swim…he pulled me out…and then threw me in again…
i didn’t truely learn to swim until I was about 14 years old….still not comfortable in the water even though I love being around it…
Good lord, that is terrible! My younger brother had a near drowning incident when he was young and to this day he can’t go under water. I am sorry my poem brought those memories up for you. I wasn’t intending drowning as much as my panic at being stuck in my clothes.
Hahaha– the best is the tag for this post: “Bad Poetry in 100 words or less”. LOVE.
Teehee. Oh yeah. It’s a series! Interestingly enough, I am full of ‘em.
See, I wouldn’t even need to qualify the badness of my own poetry– it’s all terrible! My tag, if I were ever to post a poem on my site (don’t hold your breath), would just be “Poetry”. Putting the “bad” qualifier in front would suggest that I actually can write good poetry, too, which is so not the case.
I am so bad that I feel this suffocating feelign when I try to write poetry. It’s like torture for me. Like pulling off a band-aid, I just have to let ‘er rip. It’s way out of my comfort zone. I do have some more poems coming up tomorrow in my greeting card series. They are much better as I didn’t write them while half-asleep at 6 am like this one.
Greeting card poems are way easier to do. There’s no pressure for them to be mind-boggling because they’re *supposed* to be entertaining (right?) As soon as I set about to write a “real” poem, though, all that comes out is terrible, angsty, 14-year old emo crap.
Same problem I have. I admire those that can write real poetry. I can write stupid poems VERY well though.
Hi,
Fantastic, I had no idea what was going to come at the end, but what a great ending, it certainly brought on a smile. I think it’s a brilliant poem.
Mags, you always leave the nicest comments. You’ve really made my day!
I loved the twist ending. I’ve gotten stuck in clothes before, but I’ve never completely panicked because I’ve always considered scissors as a viable alternative. I did panic once when I got stuck in my own bathroom, though (http://unlikelyexplanations.com/2011/08/15/the-door/).
Now that is something that would happen to me for sure. Your story was hysterical though, (mainly because it hasn’t happened to me…yet. I have broken my toe before, twice so we have that in common.)
Love the way you zip that one up in the end.
Hugs,
Kathy
Thanks, Kathy! Good to see you here and I’m sure you’re still recovering from a whirlwind of a week! Congrats again on Freshly Pressed, I was excited to see you and Tori and Lisa up there all together in one post like that.
I knew that there would be a surprise, but I thought that the jacket was DONE! Apparently you have multiple jackets. Was this one plaid, though?
I know. What is UP with me and jackets lately? My brain is mush, Elyse. Mush. I am writing too much lately. I had a dream last night I ran into some bloggers and we all went to London for the Olympics and Peg wanted me to enter the baton twirling competition wearing the jacket and the judge from Bulgaria gave me a zero.
That damn Bulgarian judge – I KNEW I didn’t like her.
The fashion judge, I presume, was not Irish!
The dangers of hastily removing your jacket whilst watching Glee. I presume that is what you meant in your first paragraph.
Leave it to you, Ape, for leaving a comment funnier than my entire post.
I read through this and just knew there had to be a twist–but it turns out, no, there was a pull! Eventually.
If I ever try to write serious poetry, I think I’m in trouble. I have a very heavy, somber post coming up and there is no punchline at the end so now I’m afraid I’ve set myself up, Deb!
I’m sorry, but I don’t think that poetry was nearly as bad as advertised.
You are waaaay too kind–loved your poem today.
Thanks…I nearly turned to the bottle myself…my wife thought I had lost my mind as I kept counting to ten on my fingers as I read each tortuous line…
I couldn’t even BEGIN to try to write something like that. Well done! (was never good at math either)
I’m just glad I got to keep my shoes on (my wife was even gladder)
Cute, Darla. Maybe it’s time to break out the green plaid jacket you won!
I think that’s a great idea–it only has three buttons, how hard can that be for me to manage? (my guess is I’d still get stuck in it)
Wow. And a poet too? Love seeing your many sides…especially in techicolor. =)
I’m afraid the poetry thing is something I should probably stay away from, but thank you, Stacie! it is fun to try.
Woo hoo!!! This is excellent. Been there – done that – switched to buttons.
If the weather would just stay warm, I’d need no jacket.
Well sure – go for the obvious. But where is the inspiration for a zipper related poem if the weather is too warm for a zippered jacket, huh Darla?! Huh?
HA! Best. Poem. Ever!! I was really, really hoping there was a punchline, and then I thought, “Well, this is a nice poem. Gawd Jules, not EVERYTHING has to be funny.”
But I’m so glad it was!
I am going to write a very serious, deep and not funny post coming up. Now I’m afraid everyone will be disapointed there isn’t a punchline.
Love it! I have had to step out of my jacket because of stuck zippers on multiple occasions!
Normally I could probably wiggle out of my jacket, but usually I just panic and hyperventilate and pass out.
Knowing you, I knew the ending would be a happy surprise. When my zipper gets stuck, I tend to cuss my brains out in a poetic fashion.
Y’know I should’ve included a few choice swears in my poem. It would’ve been much more realistic.
P.S. The interesting surprise left me speechless.
Hehe! You look positively radiant in your picture, Priya! So excited for you guys.
A few blogs I follow vent their emotional traumas, it feels better to get it out there. this spoke to me and thought about my own past experiences which I too luckily managed to break free of. It’s good to see we are not alone and can we can take support from each other. Mine was in the trouser department, I changed to button ups
Support is the key to every blogging relationship. You are never alone in your clumsiness.