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Hanger

April 5, 2010
tags: ,

Photo by artă obraznică

Hang, Hang, Hang,
The indiscernible curvature
Of your pen
Slides, effortlessly
Against my wall.


The midnight madness seeps
Through
My poreless barrier
Silently
Like a shiny swiss army knife
That dances
Through
Ivory tofu.


And then
I had a hanger.


And then
I stealthily
Hung up my private laundry
Soft ribbons
Of half formed thoughts
And sighed
Slowly
And
The hanger
Broke
And
Everything
Fell
Silkily
Gracefully
To the ground.
from → Photography, Poetry
4 Comments leave one →
  1. Literary Dreamer permalink
    April 6, 2010 12:14 AM

    You’ve been in a poetic mood lately, haven’t you, Grace? And you weren’t kidding when you said you were writing lots. Lucky us. :-)

    Also, I must commend you on the imagery here. “Ivory tofu”? “The midnight madness seeps through my poreless barrier”? Good stuff!

    Reply
  2. Donald Roy Miller permalink
    April 6, 2010 4:52 PM

    Grace, thank you for sharing your gifts: Your lovely way of expressing ideas and words—in ways that could only come from a lovely heart and soul. When I visit your site, I am uplifted in every worthy way. And I am also humbled into a silencing awe, feeling that any comment of mine would be inadequite.

    Grace: Thanks Donald.

    Reply
  3. Christopher Bourne permalink
    April 7, 2010 1:15 AM

    I love your poetry also, Grace. Have you ever thought of publishing these in book form? These along with your photos would make a very handsome little volume.

    Grace: These kinda have been just random scribbles…but thank you so much, maybe I’ll give that some thought :)

    Reply
  4. theonlycin permalink
    May 6, 2010 10:01 PM

    This is a wonderful poem.

    Grace: Just bookmarked yours.

    Reply

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