Poem 9 |  {That mask you wear}

By Ajanta Judd All Rights Reserved – 7am Australian EST

Prompt 9: Write a poem containing at least five of the following ten words. If you want it can include all ten words. If this prompt seems at all familiar, it is probably because we do it every year, just with different words.Heat/Cottage/Firefly/Bottle/Mask/Porridge/Zoom/Lethargy/Strange/

 

That mask you wear

behind whose your eyes do blindly stare

they seem to zoom into an empty place

where you live that strange existence

like a firefly trapped on a glued surface

succumbing to the inevitable.

The last time I saw you at the cottage

you were hovering on the treeline of insanity

an empty bourbon bottle on the floor

another one half full on the table

and lethargy filled the room

like a belly full up with the morning’s porridge.

I had tried to get through to you

to pierce the disquiet and pull you back

but all you did was mumble incoherently

punctured with a stony silence.

This time would I intervene?

How would that be?

Would it permanently sever us?

In the end I had decided to leave

and hope that you would survive to sit this one out.

Until next time..

 

 

 

 

 

2 thoughts on “Poem 9 |  {That mask you wear}

  1. I really loved some of the potent images in your poem, especially:

    you were hovering on the treeline of insanity
    an empty bourbon bottle on the floor
    another one half full on the table
    and lethargy filled the room
    like a belly full up with the morning’s porridge.

    Thanks!

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