ysabetwordsmith (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ysabetwordsmith) wrote2019-07-31 05:35 pm
ysabetwordsmith) wrote2019-07-31 05:35 pm
Entry tags:
Poem: "What It Means to Me"
This poem is spillover from the July 16, 2019 Poetry Fishbowl. It is the second freebie thanks to new prompter lilliane and two Anonymous prompters. It also fills the "Winter Soldier" square in my 7-1-19 card for the Winterfest in July Bingo. This poem belongs to the series Love Is For Children.
"What It Means to Me"
The future is confusing and unfamiliar.
There is so much that Bucky has forgotten,
so much that has changed beyond recognition.
There are things he used to have that he
hasn't had in so long that now he doesn't
even know them when he sees them,
can't recall what they used to mean.
He tries to hide it. Of course he does.
Steve makes the worried face
whenever Bucky can't remember.
So Bucky gives vague replies
and tries to spackle over
the gaping holes in his mind.
There's another look, though,
that isn't pity or regret, and
Bucky can't pin it down.
He sees it in the strangest places,
not just the physical therapy room
or the gym when he's pushing hard,
but sometimes in the common room too,
or even from total strangers on the street.
People look at him, give him a little nod and
a smile, then go back to what they were doing.
It's strange, and Bucky doesn't understand it.
He doesn't know why people are looking at him
like this, what he's done to deserve it.
He doesn't know why it gives him
a funny flutter in his stomach, and
he's not sure if he likes it or not.
But it's there. It's there, and he
keeps seeing it everywhere.
Bucky doesn't understand it
until he walks in on Betty with
her hair up in a do-rag, dancing
across the wet kitchen floor and
singing to the mop as she cleans,
while JARVIS croons the backup.
The words take his breath away.
R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Find out what it means to me
R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Take care, TCB
Bucky clutches the door
with his flesh hand so that he
doesn't fall over or break anything.
Oh. Oh. So that's what it is!
That's the look he's been
seeing on people's faces.
It's respect.
He hasn't seen it
in so long that he'd
forgotten what it
even looked like,
what it meant to him.
Forgotten that
people need it like
they need air or water.
Forgotten that it feels like
sunshine and Steve's smile,
warm and complete.
Betty doesn't coddle him.
Betty grins and tosses him
another mop and says, "Come on,
soldier, show me what you got!"
Bucky catches the mop.
He sucks in a deep breath
of something as needful as air.
He learns that he still remembers
how to dance, how to mop a floor ...
how to learn a new tune.
* * *
Notes:
Alexithymia is difficulty identifying emotions in self and/or others. Emotional agnosia is difficulty interpreting body language, voice tone, and other clues to derive information about feelings. These limitations make social life much more challenging. Many people with traumatic brain injury, or other neurological problems, suffer from some such impairment. Learn how to cope with fogged emotions and post-TBI issues.
Respect is a need. Here are some ways to show respect.
"Respect" is a song Otis Redding, but the version most people know came from Aretha Franklin.
R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Find out what it means to me
R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Take care, TCB
Here is my banner:
https://i.imgur.com/IpweNjx.jpg?1
lilliane and two Anonymous prompters. It also fills the "Winter Soldier" square in my 7-1-19 card for the Winterfest in July Bingo. This poem belongs to the series Love Is For Children."What It Means to Me"
The future is confusing and unfamiliar.
There is so much that Bucky has forgotten,
so much that has changed beyond recognition.
There are things he used to have that he
hasn't had in so long that now he doesn't
even know them when he sees them,
can't recall what they used to mean.
He tries to hide it. Of course he does.
Steve makes the worried face
whenever Bucky can't remember.
So Bucky gives vague replies
and tries to spackle over
the gaping holes in his mind.
There's another look, though,
that isn't pity or regret, and
Bucky can't pin it down.
He sees it in the strangest places,
not just the physical therapy room
or the gym when he's pushing hard,
but sometimes in the common room too,
or even from total strangers on the street.
People look at him, give him a little nod and
a smile, then go back to what they were doing.
It's strange, and Bucky doesn't understand it.
He doesn't know why people are looking at him
like this, what he's done to deserve it.
He doesn't know why it gives him
a funny flutter in his stomach, and
he's not sure if he likes it or not.
But it's there. It's there, and he
keeps seeing it everywhere.
Bucky doesn't understand it
until he walks in on Betty with
her hair up in a do-rag, dancing
across the wet kitchen floor and
singing to the mop as she cleans,
while JARVIS croons the backup.
The words take his breath away.
R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Find out what it means to me
R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Take care, TCB
Bucky clutches the door
with his flesh hand so that he
doesn't fall over or break anything.
Oh. Oh. So that's what it is!
That's the look he's been
seeing on people's faces.
It's respect.
He hasn't seen it
in so long that he'd
forgotten what it
even looked like,
what it meant to him.
Forgotten that
people need it like
they need air or water.
Forgotten that it feels like
sunshine and Steve's smile,
warm and complete.
Betty doesn't coddle him.
Betty grins and tosses him
another mop and says, "Come on,
soldier, show me what you got!"
Bucky catches the mop.
He sucks in a deep breath
of something as needful as air.
He learns that he still remembers
how to dance, how to mop a floor ...
how to learn a new tune.
* * *
Notes:
Alexithymia is difficulty identifying emotions in self and/or others. Emotional agnosia is difficulty interpreting body language, voice tone, and other clues to derive information about feelings. These limitations make social life much more challenging. Many people with traumatic brain injury, or other neurological problems, suffer from some such impairment. Learn how to cope with fogged emotions and post-TBI issues.
Respect is a need. Here are some ways to show respect.
"Respect" is a song Otis Redding, but the version most people know came from Aretha Franklin.
R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Find out what it means to me
R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Take care, TCB
Here is my banner:
https://i.imgur.com/IpweNjx.jpg?1
no subject
I esp love Jarvis & Betty's duet!
Thank you!
JARVIS is slowly starting to integrate more with his team, as he spends more time around people who treat him as a person instead of an appliance. I could see Betty singing, and JARVIS asking if she'd like music for that, and her inviting him to sing along too.
Re: Thank you!
Hey, you know there are Karaoke bars on the internet, right? Places like VR chat have them... and since everyone there uses an avatar, no-one would know JARVIS is any different.
Think about it a moment, he could mix & mingle with humans, and they'd have no reason to think he wasn't one of them, which perversely means he could just be himself. [speaking from experience, personality quirks are more the norm.]
no subject
But I never got all the words. What's TCB? Take Care, Baby? (https://www.acronymfinder.com/Slang/TCB.html)
no subject
"R-E-S-P-E-C-T, Take care of TCB!"
no subject
Thoughts
I'm glad that you're getting respect.
A cane can be a symbol of power, or even an artifact. I have a sword cane with a cobalt sphere on top.
>> It does feel strange, like "There must be somebody important standing behind me..." <<
Yeah, that can happen. Most people get used to it in time, though.
Re: Thoughts
I have a walking stick, more of a sorceress' staff, that I made a long time ago, when a small birch tree on the edge of the yard where I was living got snapped off by an ice storm. The broken piece was just exactly as long as I was tall. At the moment a staff wouldn't be terribly useful to support me and help me balance, not the way an ordinary cane is. But when I get more of my physical abilities back, I may switch to the staff, just for the presentation ;-)
Re: Thoughts
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You know you can get little capsules of tritiated phosphor stuff, 'glow' capsules for key rings and the like.. Granted, that would mean the light is always on, just not visible in daylight.. but you got yourself a teeny-tiny little powersource for whatever spell construct you put there.
Re: Thoughts
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Hmm...if I built a betavoltaic generator, could you use that?
Re: Thoughts
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Yeah, imposter syndrome sucks.
>> I have a walking stick, more of a sorceress' staff, that I made a long time ago, when a small birch tree on the edge of the yard where I was living got snapped off by an ice storm. The broken piece was just exactly as long as I was tall. <<
Wow!
>>At the moment a staff wouldn't be terribly useful to support me and help me balance, not the way an ordinary cane is. <<
Yeah, I'd want a different style for a walking cane, more ergonomic.
>>But when I get more of my physical abilities back, I may switch to the staff, just for the presentation ;-) <<
Go you.
Re: Thoughts
Awww!
Re: Awww!