Poetry Thursday-Spill
It's been a long while since I posted any poetry, but I happened to meander over to Poetry Thursday the other day and the random prompt generator happened to give me a very appropriate word...
Spill
naturally
i didn't mean to do it
somehow
my elbow brushed against
that topheavy bottle of cream
over it went
spreading a silent pool of reproach
in french vanilla
across my countertop
a languid pool running
over the edge
dripping casually onto
my clean floor
so early in the morning
for this to happen
my eyes still gummy with sleep
i stand frozen in shock
incapable of moving
"you're always in such a hurry"
my husband says
but
"you're so clumsy"
is what he really thinks~
he turns his back
and pads away
while my eyes stare transfixed
on this fountain before me
until they too fill up
and
spill
i didn't mean to do it
somehow
my elbow brushed against
that topheavy bottle of cream
over it went
spreading a silent pool of reproach
in french vanilla
across my countertop
a languid pool running
over the edge
dripping casually onto
my clean floor
so early in the morning
for this to happen
my eyes still gummy with sleep
i stand frozen in shock
incapable of moving
"you're always in such a hurry"
my husband says
but
"you're so clumsy"
is what he really thinks~
he turns his back
and pads away
while my eyes stare transfixed
on this fountain before me
until they too fill up
and
spill
Labels: Poetry Thursday
posted by Becca at Thursday, May 17, 2007
10 Comments:
Great use of the prompt. I really enjoyed how the rhythm you established in this poem directly coincided with the act of spilling. The words in the poem spill into each other in a way that enhances the content of the poem. Thanks for sharing!
Oh, well done, Becca! The cream spilling, your eyes spilling with tears- it all just flows so effortlessly...
Oh, and those husbands know exactly what to say, don't they?!
Well done, indeed!
It created such good images too.
"a languid pool running
over the edge
dripping casually onto
my clean floor"
Tears have this habit of spilling when we least want those.
"while my eyes stare transfixed
on this fountain before me
until they too fill up
and
spill
"
I liked reading this.
Great images, Becca. The form fits the subject! I especially like this line, "spreading a silent pool of reproach
in french vanilla
across my countertop"
Very nice!
Your too clever Becca, great poem.
Beautifully done, Becca!! Keep up your marvelous work!!
This is such a good piece on the word you were given. I know just how it feels to be so tired that you can't hardly process something right in front of you, like everything is in slow motion and you're standing outside of yourself watching it all.
I'm glad you were inspired to treat us to a bit of your poetry. School's almost out, so I'm sure we'll see more in the near future.
What a wonderful poem - beautiful flow with the spilling cream and spilling eyes.
This one is stunning in its intensity and imagery. A silent pool of reproach ... how amazing that one small act and careless words can spill our emotions out. Much peace and love to you Becca ... xx, JP
That's sad!!! Although the poem is great!
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