Sunday, 21 August 2011

to fill a space . . .


He meticulously bought the cigarette paper up to his lips

with deft and artful tongue he licked the exposed edge.

Flicking at the lighter until the flame leapt

. . . he inhaled . . .

eyes tight closed

as he took that ritual long slow breath.

Pulling the sacred smoke down

deep into his lungs.

Silence fell as he held it there.

Moments passed - like shooting stars.

. . . until he exhaled clouds . . .

Sweetly scented blue grey smoke

curling and climbing the expectant air.

He smiled as peace descended.

He was home.


Sidestepping the arid thoughts

of these, her every day torments,

she swept the kitchen.

Blue broom pushing yesterdays crumbs

over her threshold, and out onto

the cold cement of another day.

The egg yellow sun crawling

over bland suburban rooftops,

scars her morning with its slanted light.

Its luke warm fingers roaming

her upturned face, exploring the weight

of her world on her shoulders, her slow walk

tender footfalls on unforgiving concrete.

In her head she sees the grasses of a distant plain,

and hears the plaintive notes that have become

her internal soundtrack. Playing on repeat,

looping over and over. An accompaniment

to her search for those rusty keys,

and lost prophets,

of home.

I have another blog where I post things written in response to prompts given by the many sites out there that are helping to keep the muse alive and well. They are good fun and help to create pieces outside of my usual style and subject matter. Occasionally if I really like something, (or as in this case haven't written anything un-prompt related for a while!) I will move writing from there to here. This is one of those times! Here are two 'prompted' pieces. Please forgive me if you have already read them and please pop back again soon for some new un-prompted words. - Susannah ;-)


Teresa Evangeline said...

I like both of these, for different reasons, both equally nice images. I am partial to the line, "she sees the grasses of a distant plain." Very nice. Thank you for these morning images.

Susannah said...

Thanks very much Teresa, it is good to see you. x

Cletis L. Stump said...

"Girl in Exile" is, sadly, almost a redundancy. Why is that, Susannah?

Susannah said...

Hi Cletis. I moved both pieces over from my other blog and I suppse because they had already been seen and commented there I posted them here together and they rather slipped into obscurity.

I usually keep this blog for the poetry that just spontaneously 'erupts' whereas these were written from prompts which feel like a different thing to me.

Phew! My response on this one is getting longer than the poem! :-)

Always good to see you Cletis, thanks for popping in and making me think! x

Robert Lloyd said...

I liked both of these poems but have to really comment on the first one. As an on and off smoker (Bad habit I know)I love how you worded this. The image you paint is me on certain days. I can see every motion and feel the unsaid emotion. I could go on and on about this poem but truly love it. Sweetly scented blue grey smoke...fading youth in my head...

Susannah said...

Robert, I am glad you liked it.

"Sweetly scented blue grey smoke...fading youth in my head..."

...Yeah, mine too. ;-)

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