There is coffee on the table
Cold now, the lips upon the rim
Have been long lost to the streets
Those open arteries
Spilling into the city
There is no one in the room
Only me and the carpet
Flickering lights
Turning white walls brown,
Distorted frames;
Assurance of a happy life, frugal,
Each grain of pleasure
Weighed against the pain
Every smile practiced
Symmetrical, same
I walk barefoot
Across the room
Wet slippers make sound,
And gaze through the window
At the miniscule ground:
The life in transit
Amusement for free
As I am for the one
Now watching me.
Love this piece.. shared it here: https://grumpysgiftspoetry.org/2020/08/17/still-life-the-human-anvil/
Thanks for being generous with your poetry.
And thank you for finding my writings worth sharing 👍👍
My pleasure. I know the power words have when they reach eyes, and though I am not particularly adept at networking, i do what I am able to.. 😉 All the best.
“Cold now, the lips upon the rim
Have been long lost to the streets”
“Every smile practiced
Symmetrical, same”
Subhan Allah.
Thank you my friend 😊
Your constant support is a thing of beauty. Glad I could be a source of happiness
Hey I loved the poem. It is very touching and it has awesome rhymes. None of the rhymes sound forced. Kudos.
Thank you, my friend. I appreciate the time you took to read it😊 Hope I find you well, Godspeed!
Hands down, one of the best poems depicting the stream of consciousness/interior monologue writing style in poetry!
All of my five senses were evoked, and I could picture all of it!
I have added this one to my favourites. And the featured image is lovely.
More power to you!
Thank you, Pragya. As always your compliments and take on the poem brings out a smile 😊
Much grateful 🙏 for your support!!