Leather holds me
sucked down into the folds
of its deep-cushioned upholstery.
I try to interpret the widening
silence between ticks of the old clock
on the mantel.
“Remember when you loved me?”
The rocking chair on the porch
creaks out a slow and gentle song
as a shock of white flashes from afar.
The outdated wallpaper flora
looks a lot like potpourri
but stinks of stale nicotine
and short-sighted ambitions.
Even ashes get to lay in crystal
before they are thrown out.
In the next room stained table oak
lies still under the disdainful eye
of cabineted china whose porcelain
is much too fine to be set upon it
but if I had my way
we would eat from it again.
I was looking at you yesterday--
just noticing how beautiful
you still are to me.
You were brushing long falls
of autumn down your shoulders
and I was falling, falling into each stroke.
Do you remember when you used to laugh?
There are no crickets tonight;
the air is strangely still.
But I feel a low rumble in the distance--
must be a storm.
Author notes
prompt: brontide - low rumbling of distant thunder
I was instantly drawn to this prompt because in high school I played in a heavy metal band called Distant Thunder. Oh, the wasted days of youth.
Everwind Rising
A contest entry
- November Rounds #3 by CitrineSunrise.
700 points, ended January 12, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 18 of 18
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This is a tender, poignant, deeply moving piece of writing, Brian. Indeed, my husband says my long hair is my "crowning glory". He also says my brown eyes turn golden in certain light. 
What a sweet reminiscence this is. What a marvelous tribute to love that never completely leaves our hearts, no matter the circumstances that may separate us. Ahhh, autumn is my most favorite season, too. Just beautiful, Scribe. 
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Such a fine poem.
I read it in my ears.
From lines 5, 6 and 7 on, the poem owned me.
I take this piece as the essence of a moment, sad one, maybe like the moment just before we expire.
At least that's how I'm feeling sitting there, sucked down into the folds of the leather.
Wonderful stuff, I think.
Tom
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"The outdated wallpaper flora
looks a lot like potpourri
but stinks of stale nicotine
and short-sighted ambitions."
Exceptional! Your words give such clear images that you actually had me standing on the edge of a cliff in wonder of what may come next.
Brilliant work poet.
Much Love ♥
Renee
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This is a wonderful read. Those last two stanza, ah! falling falling. . .really nice.
I've always felt an electricity, a snapping, almost visible in the air, right before the storm.
and the stillness, just before the first big drops come down.
That ending is perfect. I am very impressed with this piece.
Love,
jin
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I have to differ and I liked the first and third stanza and this was my favourite part =
I was looking at you yesterday--
just noticing how beautiful
you still are to me.
You were brushing long falls
of autumn down your shoulders
and I was falling, falling into each stroke.
Do you remember when you used to laugh?
There are no crickets tonight;
the air is strangely still.
But I feel a low rumble in the distance--
must be a storm.
Is that meant to be an ominous ending I wondered? Nice write.
-
Because this is SO GOOD I am going to really rip it.
First stanza, great opening, didn't like sucked, can't imagine leather furniture sucking onto something, maybe "wrapped down" or "sunk down" or maybe even "hugged by the folds".
Second stanza perfect, great set up of thunder.
The only thought of the third stanza is, "really necessary?" Yes it gives the image or an open porch, in my mind a big wrap-around porch, and wind rocking the chair causing the creaking, but later you say the air is still. That said, I like the personification of the chair and the tie back to stanza one, and the past to present tie.
Stanzas four and five brilliant again, but six and seven, again, other than the tie to the past, why, almost to much and not in tone with the concise nature of the rest of the poem. That said, it is well written.
Stanza eights first three lines opens a little telly and cliche'd, out of tone with the rest of the poem but forgivable as the only instance.
Single line stanza nine a little tired but necessary.
Stanza ten, crickets, enough said a winner, and the completely telling last line to tie up the metaphor.
If you don't win you must be up against some really great poets.
Good luck.
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I Just had to read it again! Excellent!
And all along I pass
the crumbling monuments
of forgotten men who desired to have you
but I know that you love
no man. -
Entralling,
“Remember when you loved me?”
The rocking chair on the porch
creaks out a slow and gentle song
as a shock of white flashes from afar.
Brings me into the moment so vividly expressed
Thank you for transporting me.
All the best
Cheryl
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this is really very beautiful.
but if I had my way
we would eat from it again.
I liked that line very much.
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Some rockin' imagery there. And I really like how the images seemed almost random at first, slipping in that "Remember when you loved me?" - and then you draw it all together later and make it into something deeper than the gorgeous images alone. And the images intertwine and start to define each other... I'm not making a great deal of sense, but perhaps you'll guess what I'm trying to say. ^^
I especially like "the widening/ silence between ticks of the old clock" (great way of describing time dragging) and the wallpaper. And that ending is so nonchalant that you almost don't notice it slip into your brain until it's already in there and shouting emotive things at you. Great stuff.
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The poignancy of this piece is shown in every line and the imagery is both accessible and irresistible. "Even ashes get to lay in crystal
before they are thrown out." The protagonists attempt to end a love affair on a civilized note, but passionate undercurrents foretell the coming storm. Very well done. Thank you for your entry. Peace, Liz -
"You were brushing long falls
of autumn down your shoulders
and I was falling, falling into each stroke."
i love this
lmao - 'distant thunder'...very cool, Brian
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"Remember when you loved me?" from that point on I don't think I blinked once....my heart is still wrapped up in this....
Laney
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oh wow....
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The stillness, the impending storm
all held in suspension as the mind
muses, observes and considers.
And who better to eat from the fine china
than one whose experience ranges from
sounds of heavy metal to the softness
of words appearing in eloquence
upon the page?
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And you wrote such an amazing piece with the prompt. Drew me in and riveted me until the end. You have such an elegant way with your imagery that captures me everytime. I just love these lines 'but stinks of stale nicotine
and short-sighted ambitions.'
Best wishes in the contest.
Gaylene
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stanza 6, line 4- much too* fine.
this is really great. gives you that rumble in the pit of your stomach.
-
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Thanks, I missed that, it's late and I'm tired.
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