watching late embers die
sleeping on the sofa
because I had no bedroom
..except when dad was gone
nights were interrupted
by daddy stoking mom
in the bed where we slept
..whenever dad was gone
hating when morning came
dreams were interrupted
by the click of a door
someone stoking the fire
when my dad was home
a soft click in the mind
..was the only door
A contest entry
- in the dialect of doors by Nicolette.
1050 points, ended August 27, 2008, 28 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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a good piece of poetry, sleeping on the sofa, i do that a lot now! mind you it is a sofa bed and i do have a bedroom too. seems like a poor family in one respect but... closer though at the time the space to breathe was missing, so cramped feelings surfaced and escape was in the mind.
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Wonderful
Very well expressed. A great creation for the contest. Congratulations on the honorable mention
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Through hard times and sad times, the past always brings out what lays dormant for years. To understand this piece, you place yourself in the eyes and ears of this child. Knowing that for whatever reason, the comfort of a mothers caress was stolen from a father who showed little or no love. The warmth of a cosy bed, replaced with a cushion from a sofa. Knowing that when morning broke, the silence of dreams held tight was broken. She, wishing only for a retreat to where they lay.
A sad, but very thought provoking write. Well done.
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To me the interest of this piece lies in its emotional absence for either mom or dad. It is analytically reactive to the status of where dad is. If dad is home then I'm here, if he's gone then I'm there. What people are describing as haunting in this is, I believe, an expectation of emotion in the poem and then finding none... the poem begs so many questions as well. When dad is gone, is he working? Is mom putting up with the absence of, say, a truck driver or a philanderer? If dad is working, why such a small house? Does mom even love dad and v.v.?
Nicely penned as it shows without telling and leaves plenty to the imagination.
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Amazing! how did you do that, you picked up on so many truths within my poem which actually reveals very little. Bless my mother for what she endured..it's a long story.
This poem tells a bit of my mother's story.
http://allpoetry.com/poem/3708646
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So haunting it hurts my heart ot think of a child behind that door...you have painted this vividly.
C
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I love this.
Good luck in the contest, Poet.
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powerful imagery
This poem I read some hours ago, but it haunts me with its feeling...I do not know exactly what I feel because there is a mixture of dread and joy.
It is personal, because it brings back memories of when I was little and slept in the kitchen. I was also in dread of my father, who was like a giant to me. The words of the poem bring these feelings back to me.
That shows me what striking imagery you must have in this poem and shows how you use words to create deep feelings in the reader. You have effective use in your spacing to move my thoughts in certain ways.
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Thank you for the wonderful comment, I too feared my father, I was so young and had no knowledge of adult relationships, I associated it with violence, which was a part of it also, odd how some things leave their mark on us without ever touching us.
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This is indeed hauntingly sorrowful and it speaks to me as I could see the child in this poem, and hear the clicking sound of the door. Of course, being a social worker, I've heard similar stories but each and every one still moves mountains within. A wonderful take on the contest theme. Thank you for this entry.
~ Nicolette
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This is haunting in its explicit demeanor of doors and clicks and times come and gone. Images present themselves in each small replica of memory. Well done. ~Pamela
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There are so many scenes in this Patricia. I like how you take the simplest of words and make them into such rich vignettes. Nice take on the "dialect of doors" prompt.
Paul
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Exceptional, and almost hauntingly sorrowful. I believe this piece of work deserves accolades. Love, Lane
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Wow...this soft click of that door, such a soft noise hiding so much meaning. This is really well penned, and with such insight and realism. You bring a wealth of stirring emotions when you write. Good luck in the contest...alby
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