Snip of velvet,
trim of lace,
stone without edge
hazed soft by sea;
greed is a collector’s fate.
Nothing matters more
than his growing
glass menagerie.
Sprig of hair,
crumpled poetry,
antique beads
of heart-shaped jewelry;
loneliness is a collector’s fate.
His horde his true companion,
’till death do they disagree.
Vintage postcards,
porcelain figurines,
the noble faces
of foreign currency;
obsession is a collector’s fate.
One find fuels another
in the search for ancient filigree.
It’s true, time corrodes,
his ill-gotten gains begot,
but the collector’s content
to watch it all rot.
© 2023 | K.Hartless
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
A great poem on the theme of Greed. Interesting, how the collector is content with letting their collections rot, implying how the act of collecting is more important to them than the items. Nicely done, K.
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Thank you. I find most collectors are far more interested in the “find” but yes, the items are in a way rotting, even when well cared for. Those unused objects of obsession. I appreciate this, Jay.
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what I’d call a tour de force of a poem; love it and admire it; the rich imagery, the shifting rhyme scheme, and that sneering last stanza, a portrait of greed
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Thank you kindly, John. I guess we all collect things in our own way. For me, it’s books and wild adventures. At least the latter doesn’t take up too much space around here.
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hahaha; I collect ‘The New Yorker’, subscriber since 2006, and my notebooks bulging with poems — a few of yours are in there —and story snippets , and my own early drafts —
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So honored. Truly. I enjoy your verse. I smile before I even click on them these days, knowing I’ll be delighted.
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that’s wonderful praise; thank you, K 🙂
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A powerful exploration of hoarding rare mementos – loved your vivid descriptions and that bittersweet overtone of it eventually rotting to dust. Beautifully imagined, K!
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Thank you, Tom. Happy Friday. For me, January is always a time to declutter. Realize that I don’t need all this stuff and to keep trekking with a lighter pack. Cheers to a weekend of sorting and simplifying.
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Hope the clear-out all goes well & less excess baggage 🙂
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“It’s mine. My own. My Prrrrecious😈”
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Oh, yes. They cursed us! The hobbits won’t kill us, though. Nice hobbits. ⭕️👆
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The music video is also entrancing👍
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Thank you. 🎶💜
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What a great capture of the personality of a collector. These collections must bring them joy… (?)
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Yes, joy and misery, I imagine. The joy of the find, the misery of the clutter. 😂 Thanks for reading and commenting, Colleen.
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The clutter… yikes! You’re welcome. I enjoy your poetry.
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Thank you. The feeling is mutual, friend. 💜 I really appreciate that. Sometimes, my poetry feels like the ugly stepsister. I can’t stop writing it, but it doesn’t seem to sit well with everyone.
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I like that about you. You’re not afraid to write what you feel or what comes into your imagination. That’s creative!
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Wow. This is super powerful. Every line hit hard. Well done!
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