This is a poem that came to me at about 30K feet. It’s about aging and memory.
If you don’t like poetry or metaphor — it might be good to stop reading here:).
If you like poetry, you might want to read it twice.
One armed men
And withered women
Hold candles where their teeth should be
Carpet that needs replacing
It’s hard to find your way
Will not slacken
Will not give up the floor
Refusing to move
As successors greedily lie in wait
Rolled into a consciousness contracting
In a universe expanding
Are especially strong
And wrinkles, old carpets,
Even dimming candlelight
Are intriguingly pleasant
As drops of hot wax
Blister your fingers
Partly because scars
3 thoughts on “Something Different”
You could consider flying high, more often. The hot wax is dripping and my skin is thin.
I love it!
Hi Vince! Thanks for your support. I don’t write much poetry and so it’s a little surprising to me that this popped out of my consciousness. I hope you’re doing well and thanks for alerting me to Tommy’s blog . . . which I had somehow missed out on reading. All best, John
Great poem. The mind/body connect is so visceral…great imagery.