Prose Poem: Room

By Sikander

Sun, 23 Aug 2009
  • 2075 reads
8 comments
 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/beforeorlater/3830277227/

Like kitchen scraps or cod and chips, you are wrapped up in newspaper. A carapace of words that you worry will stain your fingers. You took time with you when you left, but present me with cut-outs of what you would say, hoping for my approval. Do not fear, I’ll not shake you. I’ll keep my trembling; my raw, bare thoughts; my hidden claws, under your black hat.

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Comments

Submitted by Richard L. Prov... on
Oh-la-la, a feisty poem. Nice going. Richard LP
Richard L. Provencher

Submitted by luigi_pagano on
Very, very good, Sikander, and so in keeping with the photograph.

 

Submitted by threeleafshamrock on
Excellent!

Submitted by Sikander on
Thank you so much for the lovely comments, Richard, Luigi and threeleaf. This IP was great fun, but I did write it in the dead of night. It's lovely to wake-up to posistive feedback! Sx

Submitted by threeleafshamrock on
Some of my best work has been done in dead of night...which reminds me; the schools open on Wednesday ;)

Submitted by MistakenMagic on
'I’ll keep my trembling; my raw, bare thoughts; my hidden claws, under your black hat.' - love these lines! Sorry I'm so late in commenting ;) Magic xxx

 

Submitted by Sikander on
That's all right, Magic. It was lovely of you to do so! Thank you. Sx

Submitted by MaggieG on
Hmmmm I often wonder the point of slapping the word "prose" in front of poetry. It somehow implies ( at least to me ) that the work is a little less poetic. Nonsense ! This short wonderful piece is a perfect example. It is HIGHLY poetic ! This is damn good writing