I’m prisoned –
cringe at pasty faces,
grins and hate from fellow inmates,
noise of jailer’s lock and key.
serving stew at dawn.
Exotic roaches, rats and worms.
are company in my longanimity.
But on a ledge I keep
a notebook where I
calculate each crescent moon
I filter days and sift its sand
I breathe, I hope for afflatus
for memories:
your eyes, my emeralds.
Written for MLM’s wordle.
—
March 6, 2017
I love that last line…your eyes my emeralds….
Me prisoner as well, friend B … until snow melts … Love, cat.
You describe a dark world so eloquently.
I agree with Kim, I felt like I was standing inside of your words. Great job creating atmosphere. Beautiful closing lines
Stellar closing lines, Bjorn 🙂 Beautifully executed.
Perfect — a wonderful use of the wordle words in a poetic tale.
Always the eyes…windows to the soul.
I saw the word list – but had no use for the roach.
Well wordle too!
Thanks for stopping by.
Where there’s afflatus there’s hope. Nice, Bjorn. I like to write of prisons, two posts come to mind. But also my code phrase here for ‘going on a holiday travel’ is “going to jail.”
..
I filter days and sift its sand
I breathe, I hope for afflatus… love this!
This prison is portable, under rib cage lock and key … there is such sharp difference between the stanzas, is it the nature of the heart’s incarceration ….
Very evocative, Bjorn. Here is a story, indeed.
Afflatus! Love that.
There is so much hope and light on the last line. Perfectly delivered.
Such a dark world you paint and yet, I love the way you express yourself. 🙂 Brilliant!
I hope for afflatus
for memories:
your eyes, my emeralds.
One just has to accept the inevitable but at least memories are registered
Hank
I breathe, I hope for afflatus… When the body is imprisoned, we nurture the freedom in our minds. This is so beautiful.