clunking down the stairs [youth’s uncommitted changes]

25 Jan

foot prints crinkled on glass became engraved

with the crack and snap of every step;

for every promise never made, or ever kept.


unable to sit still, push and pull had nothing to yield.

like a new suitcase with old clothes making another roll,

clunking behind me down the stairs.


i am afraid, I have made changes equal to a reupholstered chair.

both, may look different, but, it’s the same old framework

hidden under there.


mistakes in chaos spins from flower to seed,

 whether from garden or weed.

all is to be released from the wind of time,

hoping not to drop on stone

or any memory, we leave behind.


Posted by on January 25, 2020 in Beginnings, Existential, Poetry, Zen


Tags: , ,

16 responses to “clunking down the stairs [youth’s uncommitted changes]

  1. Bekkie Sanchez

    January 28, 2020 at 4:29 pm

    Nice work! I liked the last stanza best.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. hhennenburg

    January 28, 2020 at 2:33 pm

    “Mistakes in chaos” – love this line. Lots to ponder here.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Jim

    January 28, 2020 at 7:20 am

    Ah, memories of the youth. Or of our kids. And of my old carry on suitcase that I still use, a reminder as one wheel is wobbly and this wheel also has a chunky profile. I do have a new one that i don’t use.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Stranded Tree

    January 27, 2020 at 10:45 pm

    “it’s the same old framework hidden under there.” – this is fitting for so many things in our lives.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Magaly Guerrero

    January 27, 2020 at 9:52 pm

    Some changes are certainly cosmetic. But hey, we need those too.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Susie Clevenger

    January 27, 2020 at 7:05 pm

    Change…I can look as I always have on the outside, but take a look inside and the place has been redecorated.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Wendy Bourke

    January 26, 2020 at 8:11 pm

    This is wonderful writing … thoughtful … nuanced … marvellously imaged. The kind of piece that gives pause. Love it!

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Rosemary Nissen-Wade

    January 26, 2020 at 7:28 pm


    Liked by 1 person

  9. Rosemary Nissen-Wade

    January 26, 2020 at 7:27 pm

    Well, I think we remain our essential selves (harder to define more exactly than that) whilst de eloping and altering in more external ways – and even, hopefully, learning to think and feel with more maturity. Thanks for a good, thought-provoking read!

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Marja

    January 26, 2020 at 7:17 pm

    Love your poem of promises broken and superficial changes , especially love “mistakes in chaos spins from flower to seed”

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Beverly Crawford

    January 26, 2020 at 6:10 pm

    “Hoping not to drop on stone”…. I like that

    Liked by 1 person


    January 26, 2020 at 5:09 pm

    Changes like a reupholstered chair really gets me thinking. And I love new suitcase with old clothes.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Björn Rudberg (brudberg)

    January 26, 2020 at 3:20 pm

    Sometimes we change without anything deeper really changing… like walking in circles you can always make a new beginning leading nowhere.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. hank77

    January 26, 2020 at 10:54 am


    hoping not to drop on stone
    or any memory, we leave behind.

    Memories should be kept intact or they would just shatter if one wants to ask for more details


    Liked by 1 person

  15. erbiage

    January 26, 2020 at 10:53 am

    Good work! The first stanza made me think about walking on a frozen lake, and the reupholster chair metaphor is superb.

    Sent from my iPhone


    Liked by 1 person

  16. sanaarizvi

    January 26, 2020 at 9:55 am

    You had me at “foot prints crinkled on glass became engraved with the crack and snap of every step,” .. such a poignant and thoughtful read. 💝

    Liked by 1 person


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