We have three more poems from our Twitter poetry jam in this group. I expect to have one more post, and that will complete the series.
Poems from the House of Memory – 7
By @KathleenOverby, @doallas, @llbarkat, @mmerubies, @mdgoodyear, @TchrEric, @PoemsPrayers, @monicasharman, @mxings, and @togetherforgood; edited by @gyoung9751.
I Want to Get a Hotel Room
I want to get a hotel room
with white sheets
and big pillows
and have no one know
that i am there
so I can sleep the days away.
I am tired of bending, tired of
folding, tired of being the blanket.
If I were a blanket and you
an old man, would you still wrap
me around your shoulders, put
my soft edge to your hand?
I am a terrible seamstress, but I still try to piece together this quilt you made of me.
The Spinning
She said if I reach,
arms wide, I will feel the
spinning. I used to swing
high, fling head back,
see world upside down
flying, spinning too fast!
Spin, spin, spin. Wheels on
hot pavement,
pigtails fly behind,
tears dry in streaks on
red cheeks. I remember
spinning perfectly still; it
only seems fast.
I don’t understand it either.
Gold and Nonsense
I traded my gold
for the tin echo
of your love.
I traded my gold
for nonsense.
And I do believe
the laughter may well
have been worth it.
Tricked by glitter, by shine.
Know me not by wealth alone.
Do you say I am a fool?
You would not be wrong.
I traded my gold
for nonsense and was
happy with my choice.
Was it gold? I thought
diamonds, or just a
single perfect stone.
What’s life without a
little nonsense now and then?
I cry knowing it was a
bad trade.
Find your way to
my secrets. What lies deep
is never mined on the surface.
- Poets and Poems: Peter A and “Art of Insomnia” - September 21, 2021
- Poets and Poems: Andrew Benson Brown and “Legends of Liberty” - September 14, 2021
- ‘Spoon River America’: Jason Stacy on the Myth of the Small Town - September 7, 2021
Heather says
“What lies deep is never mined on the surface.” WOW. Who wrote that line? So much amazing here.
laura says
this is my fave:
If I were a blanket and you
an old man, would you still wrap
me around your shoulders, put
my soft edge to your hand?
I am a terrible seamstress, but I still try to piece together this quilt you made of me.
that just gives me goosebumps.
nAncY says
dazzzzzling