Oh dusty wrinkled fabric,
You are old and tattered, your
Shadows crack mountain-tops
And your stains shout stories of
Love, lust, and teardrops.
Why does nobody wash you?
You lie there amongst rubble
Forgotten and unlovable,
And the stitches that held you up
Now fall in piles unrecoverable.
I understand you now, buried quilt.
To be left alone, to witness
Time move ahead without your presence.
Maybe I will lay with you for awhile,
We can chat about our obsolescence.
<Deleted User> (13762)
Tue 15th Aug 2017 08:29
Lovely, an interesting idea for a poem Michaela. Could also be about faces? Just thinking out loud here - by alluding to something else, like say a face, a poem can benefit from an added layer.
the first verse here shouts 'face' to me. The second speaks of loneliness, lost loves and lack of love, past mistakes etc. The third a reconciling with oneself. 'Maybe I will lay with you for (a) while' is a beautiful line in this context - as if resignation has turned to acceptance.
Col.
If you wish to post a comment you must login.
This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.
raypool
Tue 15th Aug 2017 23:28
Bitter sweet and a little self pity in a finely conceived poem.
Hope and promise in the first verse, disillusionment in the second, and resolve in the third is my view. Pretty similar to Colin's reckoning.
Keep this up when you feel the inspiration Michaela.
Ray