Going Nowhere in Fragments
As I drive down the highway,
cars pass me like I’m standing still.
Maybe I am. I have no idea how fast
I’m going. My mind is going somewhere else.
Did she even know what
she was talking about? What
I was talking about? What
were we talking about?
I remember hearing the door slam
as she closed it behind me.
I remember my car door
slamming as I turned the key.
Nothing looks familiar.
I wish I knew where I’m going.
This poem is my response to MTB: Picking up some Pieces, the prompt from Laura Bloomsbury at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, which is to write a poem of disjointed images, a fragment poem – a part of a larger work or a poem made to appear discontinuous or incomplete. “Fragment(s)” must be used in the title.
Image source: agriculture.com
rivrvlogr 
I like the internal/external cues which gives a sense of the fragmentary
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Laura.
And I just realized I left “fragment” out of the title, so it is now renamed Going Nowhere in Fragments.
Thank you for the prompt.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This makes me think of a bad dream on repeat, or going back over an incident, hoping to make sense of it, or make it come out different.
LikeLiked by 2 people
No matter how you look at it it comes out the same.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s dreams and often life.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I really feel that .. when you drive without knowing where you are going. winding down behind the wheel i maybe not the best you can do.
LikeLiked by 2 people
It certainly doesn’t get you anywhere.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on OPENED HERE >> https:/BOOKS.ESLARN-NET.DE.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for sharing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ouch. The wake of a heated argument disorients everything. You capture the fragmentary mind that follows.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks, Brendan. And it definitely does become fragmented – both the scene and the mind.
LikeLike
Yikey, Bro. Fragmentation defined. Bravo.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks!
LikeLike
Really like the urgency, the rhythm of that 2nd stanza, the way it all clicks, those clever, clever last two lines, and they were clever…very, almost like that recurring statement in a film I like very much: a circle is not round… (Before the Rain)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. Sometimes, we end up talking in circles, and everything becomes pointless.
LikeLike
You’ve described the unsettled feeling generated from miscommunication very well. Here it feels like a tiff between partners but it could be between any two people. Getting away is good for the moment as long as there is a time for clarification at some point. Otherwise you really will be spinning in place.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks, Lisa. I agree. Spinning wheels get us nowhere and only delays the inevitable.
LikeLiked by 2 people
You’re welcome. I think many people, myself included, learned avoidant behavior as a coping mechanism when we were young, when we had little power. Unfortunately it can become maladaptive as adults, when we do have volition and means for healthy alternatives.
LikeLiked by 2 people
We have all felt that way. Good poem!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you. Fortunately, I can say it hasn’t been very often.
LikeLike
I love your fragmented thinking but hate it when it happens when we are driving. It’s happened to me and I drove miles without even realizing it. Scary 😟
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. Those are distractions we don’t need while driving.
LikeLike
I’ve been in my car before driving with no intended destination. I just had the need to drive. Your use of fragments drives the poem as the reader wonders what transpired.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. I do understand that need to drive. Especially on country roads.
Here’s a story for you…
45 years ago, early in the marriage, my ex and I were having a disagreement while standing in the driveway. My car was behind hers, and I was sitting on my fender. She didn’t want to argue anymore, so instead of going into the house she got into my car and started it. When I wouldn’t get off the fender, she backed out and drove off – with me hanging onto the wipers. I jumped off at the first stop sign and walked back a block to home. She was gone for a couple of hours, and the argument was history. More than thirty years later, she finally left for good.
LikeLike
Wow, ratcheting up the emotion – that’s how this feels. Nice bit of writing, Ken.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Misky. 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
This is superb. It captures those stressed feelings, the distraction, so well.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you. The key is to avoid the conflicts to begin with.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Sometimes difficult to do though!
LikeLiked by 2 people
This is incredibly hard-hitting and poignant, Ken! You capture the complexity of emotions at times and fleeting nature of life (in fragments) so well! Kudos to you! 💝💝
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Sanaa. I think of my life as a whole, but I do see bits and fragments that could have been better resolved.
LikeLike
You’ve captured so well the emotional feel of after the fight–when it seems you’re not thinking straight, but just keep replaying the scene over and over again. And it’s scary when you’re driving and lose track of where you’ve been.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, and I agree. It may be good to get away from something like this for a bit, as long as it doesn’t get to be a dangerous distraction.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Yes, very true.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I am in the half-sleep insomniac bloom of zolpidem, but I like your work. I will return when I am once again razored out to write a ringing comment! ✌🏼❤️
LikeLiked by 2 people