Bedspace
July 19, 2009 by hames-1977
To this semi-privacy. An epitaph reads,
“in this sanctum, a restless, herein lies,
its opaque remembrance failing to breath
devoid of oxygen, rousing to the grind
like a zombie of the worst kind”.
Against the ancient cracked walls, my fingers
will then, smear red letter stains of anguish.
The light bulb is my flickering moon
cocooned in cobwebs, I dread.
It went dead as it signals the start
of the many battles I will wage against,
tonight. My anger boils up, my teeth gritted
to someone’s snoring and the other’s whispers.
One-eyed as a pirate I will set to sail the hours
struggling against nocturnal enemies, those
bloodlust critters diving into my sea of sheets.
This nightly tryst to its mattress,
and bed covers sweat stained,
sagged by bouts of insomnia-
wasted and nauseated,
by the stench of coffee.
A back-breaking day
I will not slumber away.
Square inches of a shared space
I rented, a coffin to say a bed.
Back during my school days, I have lived too many houses, too many rooms, and beds and had many room mates. Even my painting series, morning panes, have that idea waking up many mornings to different window panes.
I started to live in a boarding school so early when I entered the seminary during my first year in Highschool. Then I transferred school, and transferred boarding houses until college and I think I moved 5 to 7 times until I finished college.
I can very much relate to this poem. It brings back memories of those years you wanted freedom but even in your bedroom you can’t have the privacy and that freedom you wanted with many souls confined with you in such an awkward situation, such an awkward state.
I spent most of my cocooning life in boarding houses, in bedspaces where I tried to find my own identity amidst the too crowded space for sleep. But looking back now, I think that situation made my finding myself even more solid because I was able to hear my voice, my soul in the middle of the snoring, of the chaos, of the doozing souls who doesn’t care much who I was, and so much more of who I would become.
This is very strong poetry, Marvin, and the subject not always written about.
I wish you well.
~ Jeques
jeques,
i want to highlight something about the prevalence of sharing spaces while you start it out working abroad. our families back home doesn’t know how it is to squeeze spaces with fellow OFW. i agree with what you have said, that time would let you learn to live with it. that sharing spaces would somehow instill virtues of patience, respect and good behavior while your private life ceases to be private.
i used to shy away from the crowd, gaining strength while hibernating or cocooning in my room. i have learned to befriend the reclusivity, wherein i have started to be engaged with arts. or maybe, art can be considered a balm to the introverted.
actually, nobody expected that i am an introvert. i try to socialize as much, to balance it out, because i have a habit to enjoy my being alone, undistracted by the outside world. should i say, i love being a hermit crab. hahahaha.
but this is to say now, that i miss my roommates because they help to become a better person that i am. and they help me to be compassionate and interested in another’s life, and for that reason it make me more human and open to possibilities around me.
thank you for your insights.
best of times,
marvin