24 Sep

I’ve been working on myself
The unplastered walls
Exposed to the elements
Were slowly crumbling to dust.
The cracks in the door
Had let in the wintry wind
And on its heaving hinges
No more could I trust.

Dirt had been blowing in
And settling in heaps
The corners were all swamped
With dead, decaying leaves.
The air, it was so sullen
Insidious insects swarmed
And the bats hung so listless
Below the window eaves.

I’ve been working on myself
Trimming all the trees
Hacking through the undergrowth
Plucking at the weeds.
Fumigating the rooms
Letting in the air
Cleaning up the shelves
Where the termites breed.

Painting all the chairs
Rubbing out the stains
Sweeping out the debri
Left by gnawing rats.
Throwing out the garbage
Left stinking on the sink
Beating out the dust
From the carpets and the mats

I’ve been working on myself
Filling up the cracks
Arranging all my stuff
Neatly on the racks.
Lighting up the rooms
Dispelling the dark
Decking up with flowers
Bringing the music back.


Posted by on September 24, 2011 in Personal, Poetry


8 responses to “Catharsis

  1. Harry Nicholson

    October 10, 2011 at 8:26

    This metaphor of the neglected house works well for the inner journey through the rooms and passageways of the self – it makes a thought provoking read. Lovely.

  2. jazzminey

    October 4, 2011 at 8:26

    This is wonderful. I actually have dreams where I am doing this. They are recurring. At first the garbage and debris was overwhelming and would reappear after I cleaned. Lately the piles are getting smaller and sometimes at the end I see a cleaned space. I must actually be making progress on my self work/worth. Thanks, Janice

  3. Pat Cegan

    October 4, 2011 at 8:26

    I am sitting here with a smile of recognition after reading this poem. Once or twice a year, I got through my house and get rid of things I have not used as I figure they no longer serve me. Your poem is a great reminder to do the same with my emotions. A good house cleaning leaves one feeling renewed, lighter and peaceful. I love this poem! hugs, pat

  4. B. M. Joseph (@bjmunayath)

    September 29, 2011 at 8:26

    Memories of a bygone era came rushing after reading your blog. Stumbled upon your blog accidentally. A treat for the series. – B. M. Joseph (

  5. kgangadharan

    September 26, 2011 at 8:26

    nadiraji, it is too much work….. ever considered renting another? is the self too much like ancestral property, including high maintenance and little time to live there? nice, insightful poem!

  6. dreamingthruthetwilight

    September 26, 2011 at 8:26

    Amy.emotions that circumstances evoke in all of us are just the same , aren’t they? The intensity with which we react may be different , that’s all. A small argument with somebody we love may get us all worked up.. . At the same time even somebody’s death may be accepted in one’s stride. Anger, regret, guilt , hope, disappointment all of it , do not go looking for anyone in particular. We are the ones who nurture it. And I’ve had my share of all of those. If I seem you put it…well I’ll be glad that I’ve been working on myself with some amount of success:-)

  7. Sharp Little Pencil

    September 24, 2011 at 8:26

    Nadira, housecleaning for the mind and soul. If one feels that type of weight building up (psychic detritus, crappy old guilt in many forms), yours is the best answer. I doubt this is autobiographical, though – you seem together in too many ways! Peace, Amy

  8. Topic Trends (@Topic_Trends)

    September 24, 2011 at 8:26

    Excellent post! Thank you for sharing this today. I enjoyed reading it very much.

    Please share and recommend – The Leaves are Changing


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