Things That Don’t Work
Last night I pushed
an oversized log
into the woodstove fire
The glass door cracked
when I forced it shut
and spread like a vein
of frost on a window
Now my dreams
are like shopping lists
that repeat without plots
and my poems are
like actors in bad roles
Pens skip with cold ink
The scale lies about my weight
The moon hangs from a branch
like ball of winter fruit
I watch from my window
that’s covered with winter plastic
that I no longer notice is there
On the other side of the house
the sun is coming up
I can’t see it
but I know it’s there
________Colleen Redman / Poets United
January 7th, 2017 7:40 am
Colleen – we just wanted to tell you how much we have enjoyed your blog over the past few years ; it keeps us “threaded” into a side of life in Floyd which we have always appreciated. Also we always look forward to your great poems and observations which usually touch home with us about the state of the world.
B + C
January 7th, 2017 11:09 am
Really like it, feel like I’m there.
January 7th, 2017 11:15 am
Thank you so much, Bill and Chelsea. Your feedback is very heartening.
January 8th, 2017 10:46 am
I love “vein of frost”
such a strong image
nice write
January 8th, 2017 11:52 am
Pens skip with cold ink
The scale lies about my weight
The moon hangs from a branch
like strange winter fruit
Beautifully haunting!
January 8th, 2017 12:02 pm
Wonderful imagery in this poem. I especially love the moon hanging “like strange winter fruit”. And that sun that you cant see but know is there. Wonderful, Colleen.
January 8th, 2017 12:05 pm
Your poem unravells as a list of observations strongly linked to a sense of isolation. The emotion is very well placed in these lines – it never becomes over-bearing.
January 8th, 2017 12:17 pm
The last stanza sensing the sun going up spoke especially with me… there is a sense of habit in your poem… a day only made extraordinary with the broken glass door… wonderful
January 8th, 2017 12:34 pm
Poets leave the best comments!
January 8th, 2017 3:57 pm
Now my dreams
are like shopping lists
that repeat without plots
I love this line–actually I love the images that you have chosen in general–they have such a tactile feel to them
January 8th, 2017 5:40 pm
I love the moon hanging like fruit…knowing the sun is coming..a sense of sadness yet hope remains.
January 8th, 2017 6:25 pm
I hope the last verse is an accurate metaphor for life….. wishing.
January 8th, 2017 8:59 pm
Think the sun coming out is the sign that things are working normally again.. the positive sign.
January 8th, 2017 10:33 pm
Your first lines got me… having tried to push too big of a log into the stove. Never did crack the glass though. OMG 🙂
And the rest of your lines carried me swiftly. Excellent.
Happy New Year Colleen.
ZQ
January 9th, 2017 4:02 am
On the other side of the house
the sun is coming up
I can’t see it
but I know it’s there
There are signs in many instances though one may not see them
Hank
January 11th, 2017 5:48 pm
[…] 6. Now my dreams / are like shopping lists / that repeat without plots / and my poems / are like actors in bad roles / Pens skip with cold ink / The scale lies about my weight/ The moon hangs from a branch / like strange winter fruit … Read my poem Things That Don’t Work in its entirety HERE. […]
January 12th, 2017 7:33 am
So hang in there until the sun rises again! 🙂