Poem -

THE CHAIR

awaiting time

Brown in false leather
creased arms
stitching a single wave
same view
quarter uncut hedge
top of a fine oak tree deep in slumber
speckling rain
freckles the glass deck

Two dogs asleep-snoring on a single mattress
in a room adorned in poverty
finest dust and scattering of web
Pain in a forgotten tale
occupies this chair
ghost yet alive,
Dead yet breathing

A single purple burst
of orchid,
stationary in its last beauty
rustling conversations
emerge from mouse ridden boards
empty crypts act as shelves
where only distance eats the vacant space

Same day
Same view
internal in his suicide
the occupant wrestles in meanings
awaits that executioner
he notices the orchid leaves
turning pale sunset yellow
brickwork chipped-
perhaps his very own discovery
perhaps?

he fidgets in this mound
listens to silence
silence,

 

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author
Katina Woodruff...

A powerful poem with in impact. 

I have two favorite parts to share: 

Favorite Lines: 

Brown in false leather
creased arms

What an interesting metaphor. I can see a person with their arms tightly wrapped together in front of their body. 

I'm curious about "Brown in false leather." To me, it sounds like the color brown represent mood in the poem. Whereas, black often depicts death. Brown may be the perfect color choice to describe the wave that is depression. I go up and down, quite a lot. Even while on medication. It's getting better though as I keep working on it. 

Favorite Part: 

ghost yet alive,
Dead yet breathing

Even without reading the entire poem, I would take from these two lines how devastating depression is. Many do not survive. To walk around and feel anxious in your own skin, next to people, out shopping, driving, walking, writing, living... with depression, you don't live the same way. You just exist, moment to moment.

Then, on the darkest of days, the sun stops coming out, the hail begins, your family steers clear, and it finally hits you on top of the head, every negative thought and idea that you could think of, all at once, or all in one long day. Depression, is a serious disease. I hope you don't mind me sharing my feelings on the subject. Your poem was well written. I liked the story although tragic and sad. 

 

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author
terry terri ZO

thank you- it is my view
my chair
me the crease
im well creased

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author
Rene Diedrich

when we did workshops in grad school, it was always prickly at first the we started to hear each other, as well as read each other as we annotated as we went too, cause some shit need not be said to all, 
at some point you start connecting.
A person gave me the one word to perfect the poem called Short Ballad of the Long Lepurchan. Come to think of Doyka was a red head. 
So I wanna tell you that I recogzine what is not working in your work. I see myself in it . a writing professor told me, you have a good problem. you got too much. it is true for me and it is undermining my work. it nay ve that we have to slow down, come back and read it aloud. if yiou dont read iit out loud the sound can get awat from you. I feel like two poems maybe more . Given the tags, could you have two or more sections becasuse this is a complex ecperience. for example, someone dies who is dear to you. there are seasons or chapter, better yet movements in that relationship. It actually could be about the stahes 20 years kater tracing grief. Whatevder it is for you, you are definite musical with it. My channells are not linear nor are yours.   Its like puking it up and makinf sense of it. have you read Chaos,, something about messy ends of creativity" ill try to get it linked here. its a good audible which has anecdotal insights aabot Iggy Pop, David Bowie, keith jarrett. good twists in phrases, btw.

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