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    ONG JOHN VINCENT
    9 views3 pages
    This poem expresses that the speaker's bodily experiences of pain and trauma are deeply ingrained in their physical form, as though lodged in their marrow. While others may have endured greater hardships, the speaker's own struggles are uniquely theirs and rooted in their physical being, as evidenced by the creaking, moaning and whining of their bones. The speaker finds identity and ownership in their physical form, refusing to abandon or discount the experiences etched into their bones.

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    This poem expresses that the speaker's bodily experiences of pain and trauma are deeply ingrained in their physical form, as though lodged in their marrow. While others may have endured greater hardships, the speaker's own struggles are uniquely theirs and rooted in their physical being, as evidenced by the creaking, moaning and whining of their bones. The speaker finds identity and ownership in their physical form, refusing to abandon or discount the experiences etched into their bones.

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    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
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    9 views3 pages

    Poem

    Uploaded by

    ONG JOHN VINCENT
    This poem expresses that the speaker's bodily experiences of pain and trauma are deeply ingrained in their physical form, as though lodged in their marrow. While others may have endured greater hardships, the speaker's own struggles are uniquely theirs and rooted in their physical being, as evidenced by the creaking, moaning and whining of their bones. The speaker finds identity and ownership in their physical form, refusing to abandon or discount the experiences etched into their bones.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Flag for inappropriate content
    of 3

    What my body knows

    Is not a lie it’s not

    A lie I tell you it is not

    It’s nothing short of truth

    And nothing larger

    My past lodges

    In my marrow and if

    I wanted a transplant

    There’d be no match

    Others’ sorrows dwarf

    My petty traumas still

    These bones are mine

    When they creak

    When they moan

    When they whine

    There’s only one thing

    I can claim these bones

    Are mine I tell you


    They are mine and kind

    To abandon no thing

    That makes this pulse

    No one but me

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