‘Laundry, laundry, still wars and laundry;
Misquoted from Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida (Act V, Scene ii)
nothing else holds fashion.’
Those of us with children, or at least those
who’ve ever laundered for them
will know
laundry accumulates exponentially
with the birth of each additional child.
This is not a complaint, nor any lack
of gratitude,
but a simple statement of fact.
My family size is limited by the amount of laundry
I can cope with in a day.
It’s all about managing the flow:
feed the maw of the machine,
keep it stoked, appease it with fresh offerings
of sweaty socks and grass-stained jogging bottoms.
Never let up, or take time off to play
at poetry.
In the days before washing machines,
I conclude that either:
a) people stank to high heaven all the time; or
b) they spent their entire lives doing laundry.
The people who did the laundry were mostly women
they washed it in the river or the sea.
The people who did the wars were mostly men.
The women stayed at home
waiting to wash the bloodstains out
some stains won’t wash away.
And it doesn’t look like the human race
is anywhere near done
with war
or laundry.
© Experimentsinfiction 2021, All Rights Reserved
Written for dVerse
Tonight, De is hosting Poetics, and has called for a poem about laundry. I, for one, detest it! Not as much as I detest war, but thankfully, I have more experience of the former than the latter.
A fascinating relationship between war and laundry in a context I never saw before is captured here beautifully! Loving it.
Thank you Jaya, I’m pleased you enjoyed it 😊
I had to look for that misquote from Shakespeare, but I do think Lady Macbeth tried to wash out some blood that were her own doing 🙂
I once read a story where the detective concluded that the murderer was a man, because that he had tried to wash out the blood in warm water which is said to be impossible.
Still I do think we are all better off just washing dirty socks.
Indeed, that ‘damned spot’! I thought about Macbeth trying to wash the blood out and turning the sea red when I saw scenes from a whaling trip recently.
And I found the original quote… lechery and laundry… so funny.
Thank you: it always makes me smile to think of it whilst laundering 😃
Holy cow, Ingrid. This is a powerful piece!
I simply LOVE this description:
“feed the maw of the machine,
keep it stoked, appease it with fresh offerings
of sweaty socks and grass-stained jogging bottoms.”
This feels like a fresh take on “death and taxes.” It seems there will always be war and laundry.
SO well done.
Thank you De! I just described what it actually feels like to me 😅 still preferable to going to war.
Too much of both and you’re too right, not close to ending. Growing up in a big family it seems the washer and dryer were going non-stop…
I can imagine! It’s a but like that in my home 😅
I know when I worked there was plenty to wash, and my ex-bf was like a large child, always outside getting dirty, which was fine but meant lots of laundry. He also wore his clothes right out quickly.
That sounds just like my eldest son!
It’s so interesting how you move from remarks about domestic life to gender and war.
You could mix class in there, too. The gentry could have their white cuffs because they had servants to keep them clean.
I could have said so much more. Money laundering, for example…but I think I would need a whole new poem for that!
🤣
Excellent misquote, Ingrid! Even Shakespeare knew about laundry. I remember all the laundry produced by just one child and can’t imagine what it must be like with more! I love the anthropomorphism in the lines:
‘feed the maw of the machine,
keep it stoked, appease it with fresh offerings
of sweaty socks and grass-stained jogging bottoms’.
I didn’t have a washing machine when I lived in Cologne, I had to go to the launderette, and when we lived in Ireland, where Ellen as born, I had to wash everything in the bath and suffered terribly from dermatitis, until someone took pity on me and gave me a second-hand twin-tub.
I should be glad I’ve a washing machine shouldn’t I? I just need to train the menfolk in how to use it sometimes…occasionally I went to the laundrette in Spain just to do a big load and get it all dried quickly.
Love the misquote by Shakespeare! I read Macbeth when I was in college, so the background proved interesting as I read these lines; “The people who did the laundry were mostly women they washed it in the river or the sea.” This is such an incredibly raw, moving and powerful poem, Ingrid 💝💝
Thank you Sanaa 🙏❤️
This was a great piece Ingrid! I loved it I just wrote something for fun since I’ve no time to post…. hee hee.. thanks and have a great day!! I’ll add to it later and post maybe some point sooooo thanks!! 🙏🙏🙏 💖🤣
Thanks Cindy! I look forward tp reading yours 😊❤️
You’re so welcome.
Oh thanks…I may lump it with all the other things we need to do, when I’ve got nothing for the day.. 🤣
That is the reason for the drafts folder 😊
This is so good! I used to say, I could never have more children than I have arms, but I like the laundry metric better. The image of the women at home, waiting to wash the bloodstains out, is so powerful. Just love all the way around on this one.
Thank you so much!
An interesting concept Ingrid..
Life may sometimes be in a mess
But I must confess
I did wear a laundry dress
During our thirty years of stress
However there will be always another closing time
And tomorrow there will be more memories and rhymes …
True indeed, Ivor!
Boy is that a brilliant ending.
“And it doesn’t look like the human race
is anywhere near done
with war
or laundry.”
Thank you 🙏
Given the size of closets in vintage farmhouses, I’d say they didn’t change clothes very often, and I believe Saturday was bath day. I suspect we will never see an end to war and laundry. Loved your poem!
I suspect that too, sadly!
So how does it come to pass that soldiers in parades are always so well-laundered? Hmmmm Must have someone back home.
If we could end war, I wouldn’t give a fig about how the end-ers smelled.
An admirable spin-cycler, Ingrid. Cangrats.
Me neither! Thanks Ron.
I so like that quote before the poem. Nowadays its easier to laundry but I cannot imagine how it was before – all that handwashing and drying under the sun. Still it goes on and on, much like war – never ending.
I can’t imagine what that was like. If only we could wash the violence out of our system!
This is fabulous! A simple beginning opening out and out like a blooming flower of thought. Petals reaching in so many directions, craving sunlight. It’s wonderful. Well done!
Thank you. I guess I have plenty to say on this subject!
I love the way you describe the washing machine similarly to a beast that needed feeding! 🤣 I actually LOVE doing laundry. It gives me such satisfaction however I have a real distaste for ironing even though I only have to do it once in a blue moon!
That’s exactly how it feels to me! But if you enjoy it so much the better… I hate ironing too 😅
This is a wonderful and unexpected juxtaposition. I remember when my 2nd child was born and my father bought me a washer-dryer for my apartment so I wouldn’t have to drag 2 children to the laundromat–the best gift he ever gave me. I no longer have one in my apartment, but I refuse to live in a building without a laundry room–I shudder to think of family life before washing machines. (K)
Oh yes I’ve only taken the children there once or twice and it was a challenge. There’s a reason women were invisible for so long…these domestic chores must have taken every spare minute of their time.
The unwashed and the warmongers both stink. Clever and original piece.
Indeed! The latter so much more so.
What a poetic journey… beginning with sweaty socks to comparing the never ending necessary laundry pile to unnecessary, yet never ending wars. From the personal to the universal. I suppose wars can be personal too and laundry, although personal, is a universal experience. Creative and engaging poem. 👏🏻
I like that you draw the distinction between necessary and unnecessary evils.
I like that you called laundry an “evil.” It does feel that way at times. 😆
And it doesn’t look like the human race
is anywhere near done with war or laundry.
Love the humour in the closing Ingrid. Great response to the prompt
Hank
Thanks Hank!
Wow, Ingrid, this is deep, true, and thought-invoking. All that said, the following lines made me laugh:
So true! 😀
-David
I had to weave a laugh in there somewhere…
Thanks David 😊
superb analogy
Thank you 🙏
Ace.
Need I say ‘maw’?
x
Depends on whether there is ‘maw’ to say…
Naw, I’ll leave it there for now.
Aw!
Although it’s only two of us and a dog, laundry is a constant. I love the how you’ve linked war and laundry. Well done Ingrid!
Thank you Linda 😊
A great ending Ingrid! You are right about that! I can’t imagine what the men must have smelled like who were in battle and could not change or wash their clothes! Phew!!
We learn to adapt with each new child as the laundry piles up!
And our hearts fill up with love!
Laundry, war, death, and taxes – I think I’ll take laundry.
I don’t blame you!
Love this poem, Ingrid! How deftly you make the connection between laundry and war! <3 Have a great wekend!
Thank you Cheryl, you too! ❤️
yes dirty warmongers!
Wow! Amazing piece – the progression from a simple, domestic (and absolutely true) observation to the profound was seamless.
Thank you, I’m pleased you enjoyed it 🙏
This is great! You started off describing how I feel about the mounds of dirty laundry and then went deep. Enjoyed it 🙂
I’m so glad you did, thank you 🙏
I remember feeling completely undone by the laundry challenge when we had our first and only child. My husband took over but eventually discoloured and shrunken clothes persuaded me to take up the mantel once again! I love your poem.