within this tumbledown house
leaning but still standing after decades
there are signs of lives
remnants of nail holes in chipped plaster
where important things graced the walls
dents in door frames visible still under
thickened layers of stain & paint
hinting of games or quarrels or rearranging
a room or even solemn scrape of a coffin
dissecting down through
each remnant of paint & paper
like rings in the stump of a tree
reveals colors of life at this time or that
from sky blue of a baby’s corner
to roses a grandmother’s final view
from bright hints of happiness
to gray reminders of hard times
waved glass blurred by time & grime
distorts distance renders it surreal
as if this place floats in space
released from earth & time & memory
surely there are spirits here
within walls trapped by windows & doors
some quiet with memories of good times
others seething with anger or lust
some lost some hoping to be found
some not caring at all
I’ll sleep here tonight
one last time
wait again for creak of a closing door
a dim glow from another room
cold brush of fingers against my cheek
or a tumble down to dark
Author Bio:
Gary Carter believes that pushing words around until they perhaps make sense seems to make sense, even as the real world seems to make less sense. But he’s been dirtying paper, as Carl Sandburg described the poetic act, since childhood, so it’s too late to stop now. His short fiction and poetry have appeared in such eclectic outlets as Nashville Review, Deep South Magazine, Steel Toe Review, Dead Mule, Real South, Delta Poetry Review and Read Short Fiction. Forthcoming is a collection of short fiction entitled Kicking Dante’s Ass. His novel, Eliot’s Tale, is a reverse-coming-of-age road trip and love story dealing with things done and left undone. He also writes for print and online pubs, and sells a little real estate on the side.
leaning but still standing after decades
there are signs of lives
remnants of nail holes in chipped plaster
where important things graced the walls
dents in door frames visible still under
thickened layers of stain & paint
hinting of games or quarrels or rearranging
a room or even solemn scrape of a coffin
dissecting down through
each remnant of paint & paper
like rings in the stump of a tree
reveals colors of life at this time or that
from sky blue of a baby’s corner
to roses a grandmother’s final view
from bright hints of happiness
to gray reminders of hard times
waved glass blurred by time & grime
distorts distance renders it surreal
as if this place floats in space
released from earth & time & memory
surely there are spirits here
within walls trapped by windows & doors
some quiet with memories of good times
others seething with anger or lust
some lost some hoping to be found
some not caring at all
I’ll sleep here tonight
one last time
wait again for creak of a closing door
a dim glow from another room
cold brush of fingers against my cheek
or a tumble down to dark
Author Bio:
Gary Carter believes that pushing words around until they perhaps make sense seems to make sense, even as the real world seems to make less sense. But he’s been dirtying paper, as Carl Sandburg described the poetic act, since childhood, so it’s too late to stop now. His short fiction and poetry have appeared in such eclectic outlets as Nashville Review, Deep South Magazine, Steel Toe Review, Dead Mule, Real South, Delta Poetry Review and Read Short Fiction. Forthcoming is a collection of short fiction entitled Kicking Dante’s Ass. His novel, Eliot’s Tale, is a reverse-coming-of-age road trip and love story dealing with things done and left undone. He also writes for print and online pubs, and sells a little real estate on the side.
RSS Feed