Monday, September 03, 2007

A Group Poem

Unravel by PWB poets

Squalid residence
Drab and broken
Dirt crawled along the floor
The smell outdid itself with rank
The bedroom contained one bed
Sagging
Damp
Well-used and stained
Mould blackened her walls
Age seamed her creases
Dug around her eyes
The life etched hard
Embedded soul-deep
Within her hollow emptiness


A line died in a barren furrow
there were no miracles left
just a sense of loss waiting for us
in the curbed resonance
of whispering dust
and yes there was space
hiding crumpled in the wounded impulse
that died expressed as vermin
somewhere an owl screeched
in a museful denial of all
that was left merely unwritten


A spring’s breeze
carrying tiny whips of gleeful drops
brought in the devine scent of soil,
through the broken doors
tiptapped the rain..
while, the shimmering sky
peeked through the deshelved roof
a bizzare marvel - nature
took just a mere night,
to make a sight of a pique


a hint of tiny gemstone lay ready
to fall from corniced corner in
an iron-clad eye
deftly swept away under
her lashdripped cover
perhaps not to speak of but
to listen from faraway
melt back into the green earth
mulched underfoot



1-14 are from Voice from the void

15-25 are from Crimsonflaw

26-35 are from Sarayu from Hues of Thought

36-44 are from Miles Away

7 comments:

crimsonflaw said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
writerwoman said...

Crimson, did you change your mind about those lines? Let me know if you want me to remove them or if you want me to change them.

Anyway, hope all is good with you, my friend.

Sara

crimsonflaw said...

its ok my friend, i think my lines are a bit disjointed, i wanted to re edit them a little but nevermind. now they have become part of the poem. i'll leave them as they are...

writerwoman said...

Sorry for the confusion, Crimsonflaw. Thanks for donating your words. :)

This was my favorite line from your section


hiding crumpled in the wounded impulse

Oh, that is a bueatiful turn of phrase. Love it.

S.K said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
S.K said...

A spring’s breeze
carrying tiny whips of gleeful drops
brought in the devine scent of soil,
through the broken doors
tiptapped the rain..
while, the shimmering sky
peeked through the deshelved roof
a bizzare marvel - nature
took just a mere night,
to make a sight of a pique

Anonymous said...

a hint of tiny gemstone lay ready
to fall from corniced corner in
an iron-clad eye
deftly swept away under
her lashdripped cover
perhaps not to speak of but
to listen from faraway
melt back into the green earth
mulched underfoot