The cold of the morning in a room most wouldn't want;
The beating heart as feet beat down garbage
strewn through a livingroom where no one lives.
Sit on the bed; it's the only sitting place.
Nevermind the piles. Standing room only.
listen for the shuffle of a deck of cards
so that I know that you're home.
Watch your step so you don't trip.
Some of this has been here since 1993.
Don't worry about stepping on anything important.
It won't be missed.
Think of it as just another thing...
You can boost your self esteem.
You're not this bad, not this broken.
You don't have to hide the sins of others
so completely that they become your own.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Oops. meant to applaud - herewith. jim
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I think you may be right about that semi-colon.
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I prefer this poem. I like the feeling that its deepest meaning is elusively just beyond the words. But only just. Particularly like the poetic contradiction in the concept of a livingroom where no one lives and those two lines "Don't worry about stepping on anything important. It wont be missed". I wonder whether you really need the semi-colon after "garbage" (?). I'm adding you to my favourites as I'm really interested to see what you might deliver. Cheers, jimmy
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Thanks! your work is good too. I stick you in my favorites as well.
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I haven't commented on this one yet?
I've read this poem maybe ten times by now, and I swear I've left a comment before. The descriptive elements of this poem are good. The tone reminds me of stagnation, or of old ladies sitting around waiting to die. Hmm...I think I know the place this poem is describing, and I love the line "Some of this has been here since 1993." It reminds me of all the weird conversations we've had about our childhoods.
Stoopid people boosting their self-esteem over stuff. Screw them.
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rofl, yeah, it's more prose than anything though most would respond with "good use of metaphor!" yeah, I wish.
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