Escape Root (22nd January, 2009, 2.25pm)
Today is sponsored by overtired SAD
and the high squeals of the black-clad
birds of prey; I pray on my own time,
rack the vestiges of my loosened mind.
Can I extract myself from this room?
Pull on a parachute and let it bloom,
a small explosion of colour, red or
blue; something primary: a metaphor.
I press my feet into resisting carpetry,
sending out a hopeful, desperate plea;
first attempt at growing an escape root
from the bottoms of my feet, a shoot.
Don’t shoot the messenger’s demands;
press lined paper, bored pens into hands,
crack the window, not with small heads;
count the slow-advancing hours ‘til bed.
Today is courtesy of exhaustion central,
nervous breakdown-breaktime mental;
my ‘I love my job’ mantra on rinse-repeat,
I try not to shout ‘sit in your ****ing seat!’
Comments
tamara (not verified) | January 22, 2009 - 16:04
Fabulous use of language,
'Birds of prey;I pray on my own time,
rack the vestiges of my loosened mind.'
This is my favourite of many incredibly crafted
lines.
x
Silver Spun Sand | January 22, 2009 - 19:05
Jennifer - this is amazing stuff. One of those poems that jumps off the page and takes on a life of its own.
I cannot quote a favourite line, favourite stanza. Each one is a gem.
Much enjoyed.
Tina x
Dynamaso | January 22, 2009 - 22:47
There is nothing like a hard day at work for inspiration and this is particularly inspired. Loved every word.
Nathan Bednarek | January 23, 2009 - 15:03
Yes, now this I like! A beautifully written piece of poetry. Well done.
Nathan.