This poem was inspired by a simple observation. I want to retire, get a popup to pull behind my jeep, and travel the country. So, I look around my apartment and notice all of this stuff. Stuff I have to deal with, in order to retire. I either have to reduce these possessions, which would be easy if I wanted to give them away. Or, I have to move them to wherever I decide to live when I retire. (I’m thinking Ft. Collins, CO). All of this stuff is weighing me down. I used to be a minimalist, not by choice, and I think I was happier then.
Possession equals debt and debt is the big ball and chain.
Kitchen with plates, bowls, silverware, pots, pans, and I don’t cook.
Toaster, blender, coffee maker, and microwave oven. Here, take a look.
Here’s a room with table, chairs, and fancy plates for guests that never come.
And ball gets larger and the chain gets shorter. It’s sad and I feel kind of numb.
This room has couch, coffee table, end tables, and book case filled with books I never read.
And the ball gets larger and the chain gets shorter. It’s an extra job, that’s what I need.
Here we have a spare room that I use as an office. I have two desks and a chair, but writing’s a chore.
And the ball gets larger and the chain gets shorter. I’d leave today, but I can’t reach the door.
Another room, fancy soaps, towels, and washcloths for the guests I hope to see.
I have washer and dryer for the clothes still in their packages, all gifts from me to me.
Finally, the bedroom. Dresser, night stands, and the bed. That bed I use at least.
It’s where I lay down at the end of the day. Tired, from dragging this huge iron beast.
But, this ball is not quite large enough and this chain could be shorter.
I think I’ll log in and place another order.
Poetry
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I enjoyed this. A house is a big ball and chain, and working toward perfecting it, is it’s own thing. It could be seen as a weight, yes, but also a reminder of what’s achieved.