Alice Walker wrote what appears to be a long poem, but it is a musing we undertake daily, sometimes without knowing. What are we discarding? It could be, as she recites, we look at material belongings in our house. It could be, as she concludes, the spiritual and hidden phenomena make us who we are.
We are damaged goods, but it is our imperfections that make us perfectly who we are. We look at things in our houses, which to others seem damaged, and we recall stories behind and under the surface. The stories underneath, never fully tellable, reveal themselves in their incompleteness. Each story is sharable to some extent, but it is always our story. Like a tree, the story is revealed in the inner circles and, then, incompletely. In the end, the imperfections that make us perfectly who we are we keep because they enhance our beauty from within.
I will keep
Broken
Things:
The big clay
Pot
With raised
Iguanas
Chasing
Their
Tails;
Two
Of their
Wise
Heads
Sheared
Off;
I will keep
Broken
things:
The old
Slave
Market
Basket
Brought
To my
Door
By Mississippi
A jagged
Hole
Gouged
In its sturdy
Dark
Oak
Side.
I will keep
Broken
things:
The memory
Of
Those
Long
Delicious
Night
Swims
With
You;
I will keep
Broken
things:
In my house
There
Remains
An
Honored
Shelf
On which
I will
Keep
Broken
Things.
Their beauty
Is
They
Need
Not
Ever
Be
‘fixed.’
I will keep
Your
Wild
Free
Laughter
Though
It is now
Missing
Its
Reassuring
And
Graceful
Hinge.
I will keep
Broken
Things:
Thank you
So much!
I will keep
Broken
Things.
I will keep
You:
Pilgrim
Of
Sorrow.
I will keep
Myself.
Teacher as Transformer 
Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
EXCEPT IN OUR APARTMENT HOUSE…NO MATTER HOW MEANINGFUL !!!!
Thank you for the re-blog Jonathan. Apartments are smaller usually which means one has to be more careful what is kept based on space.
You got that right—but it still hurts! đŸ™‚
Her musing was lovely – and how very true of each of us. A few feet from me are such things: a dipper with holes worn through that belonged to my grandparents when they married, a folk art Abraham Lincoln that my daughter made in middle school that the teacher accused her having her father make, a Native American hammer stone a beloved cousin gave me and the list goes on. These things – small bits and pieces of history – do make us who we are.
Lovely post!
Thank you Jackie. We are similar to you in our house with things here and there with their stories. I have stuffed bear hand-made by my grandmother. Many years ago, he was attacked by one of our dogs leaving him damaged. Kathy sewed an eye-patch on and the pirate bear keeps watch over our room 30 years later.
I will keep broken things…
We do and we keep them close.
Very profound! There are so many things that mean so much to us and we keep them dear and you drive your message/point home when you say, “I will keep myself”. well said!
Thank you Richard.
You are welcome!
perfectly imperfect
Very well said Susan.
perfect with valuable facts!!
Thank you.
I read this once before, quite some time ago, and loved it. I love it even more the second time around.
I think it grows on us as we mature.
It’s beautiful. I have always loved imperfect things, faces, people. And yes, I find it so difficult to part with broken things. Now I know why. Thanks for sharing
You are welcome.
Perhaps damaged, like perfect, is a perception based on our frame of reference. Interesting, Ivon. Thanks! xoxoM
You may be right. You are welcome Margarita.
I love Alice Walker and her work. This is a very good poem. Nice you shared it with us. Hugs, Barbara
You are welcome Barbara. I did not realize she wrote poetry. I was familiar with her prose i.e. The Color Purple and enjoyed her writing there. It has been nice to find her poetry.
She has written many more novels too! Strong and moving stories that never leave her. Hugs, Barbara
The sweetest thing about old broken things are the memories they keep safe within.
Even with the holes in the broken things.
Yes đŸ™‚
Fantastic, and I do get the two meanings in all of this, the literal and metaphorical.
Thank you Elizabeth.
Reblogged this on Truth Troubles: Why people hate the truths' of the real world and commented:
This man has an excellent site, please give his site some of your time.
Thank you for the re-blog.
I’m probably the oldest and most broken thing in my apartment. Parts of me don’t work as well as they used to, but I’m happy to keep on going.
I remind myself of Leonard Cohen’s line about things that don’t work and places that ache that did not. I paraphrase.