fluorescent lights flicker
from cream colored and cracked fixtures,
blinking my daylight to the
beat of a deranged drummer.
I've been in this hole for years,
aching to return to real
sunlight
instead of it's manufactured counterpart.
I count days by the number
of tremors and worms
who crawl sickly
through my muddy prison.
my living room is now a mire,
the potted plants have long since
expired to fertilizer,
the couch is caked in
the crumbling ruins
of the dropped ceiling,
windows browned
seems like a smoker
lived here for years
without cleaning.
I'm still sitting in my corner
afraid to move,
wondering where and when,
or even if
anyone will find me in
the emotional landslide
that covered me
so long ago.
In a list
A contest entry
- see not the flame, know the artist, and understand blood. (invite only) by apples fell.
400 points, ended September 25, 2008, 34 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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Powerful Piece
I love your use of metaphor in this work what a powerfully penned work it is with a very nice cadence throughout my heartfelt thank you for gifting such a remarkable look on the inside.
Lady E
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in the last stanza, perhaps take out the comma after "if". just a suggestion.
other than that, i thought this was awesome.
your imagery and metaphor was perfectly set up in the beginning. everything just flowed cohesively to the end. great stuff. good luck in the contest.
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fixed, thank you for pointing that out.
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"of the drop ceiling"
- Did you mean "dropped"? That was the only critique I could find here. As usual, your stuff is very fresh and takes on a form all its own. You give the room life, you make the sunshine matter, you illustrate the idea of passing time and you do all this without making it seem like I have read it in other places. That second stanza with the worms was quite good, to say the least. The end reminds me of a nine inch nails song...But I can't remember the title. Anyways, a great entry.
I loved this.
Thanks for entering and good luck.
;
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typing too fast is a downfall to getting out the right words sometimes. I fixed it.
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That's alright. I know sometimes the words just need to come out first. Your a great writer, so I don't mind reading it closely, of course.
;
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Wonderful metaphor. "emotional landslide"...loved that line. Maybe reaching out is better than waiting to be found, though, eh? Cheers to figuring it all out.
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