I know I’m not the first to knock--
I recognize the smudges of her hand
Still I can’t help
wondering. . .
were I to run my fingers down the long lines of your grain
and press them
just right,
would you acquiesce? would you open yourself to me?
Only answer
only mention there is room
and I will press my fingers,
my palms, my soul
restlessly
until I find your threshold
forever
behind me
In a list
A contest entry
- in the dialect of doors by Nicolette.
1050 points, ended August 27, 2008, 28 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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I certainly assume I understand this poem having been at a similar door more than once. That feeling of it being shut to us, but open to another, that is a horrible feeling...yeah, horrible is the right word, lol
And we do that those thoughts...what if we did this? Said this, promised that? If we knocked just right...would it be unlocked?
No, it never has been for me. When the door closes I always hear that, "Don't let the door hit you on the way out!" lol This is where you say, "Poor Yem, we are simpatico." lol
How sad that we lower ourselves to that? Do you know what I mean? The door is closed, why do we stand before it like admonished children waiting to be loved. No, burn the door down in a glorious flame that will remind everyone of our hurt and our resolve,
But no, we press our palms meekly on the door, hoping it will open.
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You totally crack me up!!!! Not because you have been at a similar door, mind you, but because I can see you there, torch in hand!!!! "Don't let the door hit you"... no wonder you claim to be a cynic! Sorry about that...horrible indeed. I guess,I really am a romantic. I believe in love, for love's sake, and DON'T think it must be returned to be real (I believe I saw you ask that somewhere). This does not negate the likely futility you speak of, only makes it easier to manage.
.... OUCH!!! I think I have a splinter!!!!
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this is very pretty. it shows a great lesson,or story,wonderful job
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-longlife
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"and I will press my fingers,
my palms, my soul
restlessly
until I find your threshold
forever
behind me"
this got me right in the heart.
Beautiful poem.
Love, Lane
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Superb. You took the door image in a totally unexpected direction. The metaphor here is well designed and the emotion is palpable.
I love the way you break the lines of this stanza:
Only answer
only mention there is room
Perfect breaks to great effect. I like the simple one-word title it piques the curiosity especially in those of us that have come to expect great writing from you. The title gives away nothing yet after reading the poem really says it all.
This one is a-door-able!
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Good stuff.
And good luck in the contest.
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gorgeous...
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hustle ___
yeah / yeah / yeah, I hear you (you sweet talker) Try Lola's house across the street. lol
Seriously...this is pretty good. I'm always amazed by the observations of others. I ignore things like' the grain of wood on a door and you see the relationship of the soul of a person. well writ / direct simplicity always knocks, as the complex symbolisms are whispersing in a wind storm.
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Lovely sense of touch here and those last line were simply great... to have a threshold behind you is to be inside, always. This one made me sigh as it resonates within me. Lovely poetry - thank you for this entry.
~ Nicolette
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Beautiful resonance in this, of the asking to be let inside. Lovely poetry here. Love, C
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Ten this is a wonderful personification in the dialect of doors-excellent job.
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Something about a door... and this poem has a wonderful tactile sense...fingertips, grain, doors made to ask and answer ..personified so nicely... lovely poetry...PK
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