I can take old stairs
A salt from lost tears
Perceiving time as incarnation
Shouldering duffel
Backpack full of fear
When hearing walks
Shocks give, tread through hunching spine
No conscience raising better judgment
Each measured step is weight to mind
It’s me… what has been
Shackles forge at will
Self-fulfilling prophecies
She’ll hold me, better, still…
When life returns new feeling
Home not in her head
Travel weary; wrists stop bleeding
Want love before I’m dead
*The above poem is my response to our special James Rainsford edition of the One Stop Poetry Picture Prompt Challenge. Being the awesome artist that he is, James has offered a choice of 6 photos today. Feel free to pick one and write a poem or 55 Fiction (aka Flash 55) based on the prompt you choose!
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This entry was posted on April 16, 2011 at 11:05 pm and is filed under Image Poetry, One Shoot, One Stop Poetry with tags Old Stairs, One Shoot Sunday, One Stop Poetry, poem, Poetry, poetry online, Poetry Reading. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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April 16, 2011 at 11:25 pm
As always Adam your writing skill is incredible. “Shackles forge at will” ~ I’m actually sort of testing myself right now so I really understand so much that line. Though some may not understand fully the reasons, my reasoning is to attempt to regain focus. 🙂 Anyway perhaps I’m strange but resisting the very element I am so weak to…things I love, enjoy in… ~hard to explain but this has such a strong effect to me in the writing…because I don’t want to fall foolishly and be deceived 🙂 yeah… “want love before I’m dead” ~ I can feel so much emotion in this and you know what, reading it casts a certain light in it too, for me, so thank you for it!
April 16, 2011 at 11:42 pm
glad you can relate to it, Apr. 🙂 Thank you
April 16, 2011 at 11:30 pm
great write my man.
I really dig “No conscience raising better judgement
Each measured step is weight to mind”
excellent!
April 16, 2011 at 11:44 pm
Appreciate the encouragement, A.
April 17, 2011 at 12:51 am
Fabulous response… not at all what I was expecting for this picture: the image of a world-weary traveller trudging up the stairs rather than opting for the easy ride up escalator… That last stanza is a real cry from the heart, felt all the way over here.
April 17, 2011 at 2:37 am
It’s me… what has been
Shackles forge at will
Self-fulfilling prophecies
She’ll hold me, better, still…
I love your take on the stairs–quite unexpected for me, a twist that works especially the line I quoted. Thanks for sharing it, Adam!
April 17, 2011 at 3:54 am
Really good!
April 17, 2011 at 3:58 am
I can take old stairs
this is deep, filled with emotion
April 17, 2011 at 5:49 am
great take on the photograph, Adam. yeah, we want love before we die.
April 17, 2011 at 6:32 am
strong write adam…the wrist stops bleeding is a def emo puller…very creative look at the pic…
April 17, 2011 at 6:45 am
The stairs are ascending – or possibly descending – into the lines of your poem. Well done, sir.
April 17, 2011 at 7:25 am
love how you start this adam – and love how you end it (and all in between..) – very strong and descriptive and full of deep emotions and longing..is there catharsis in your writing as well..?
rgd. your question…in mine almost always is..
April 17, 2011 at 7:38 am
Much of the time—perhaps rare if there’s not. That’s how I roll 🙂
April 17, 2011 at 7:30 am
The poem’s focus on the stairs rather than on the 2 “people movers” in the photo immediately gives a sense of trudging forward. Dogged steps seem to shuffle through old lifetimes (as symbolised by the stairs). Powerful!
April 17, 2011 at 7:46 am
I was out of breath by the time I stepped to the end of this. Moving poem even though the stairs do not. Heavy contemplative piece that is universal in nature.
April 17, 2011 at 10:26 am
This really hit home how difficult inner metamorphosis is. You can change, hell, we can all change, but do we ever stop wishing to find that other part of us that makes us want to return home and stop travelling? Multi layered, but hard hitting Adam, photo kind of reminds me of roads not taken. Great write, as usual 😉
April 17, 2011 at 10:31 am
Adam, I love how this can be interpreted in many ways, although for me ’twas more of the essence of : I can take this familiar path, the one that I already know, but it doesn’t satisfy me, because it’s stale. I want something more, something to feel, something (or someone) to love and receive it in reciprocity without forcefulness.
As always,
Pounds
April 17, 2011 at 10:35 am
Want love before I’m dead. This works from from either perspective of just coming down or preapring to climb, old stairs. In fact the moving steps can ease the journey up or down. Sounds like the MC could use the rest. Great piece. And thanks for your comment.
April 17, 2011 at 11:15 am
Perceiving time as incarnation
Shouldering duffel
Backpack full of fear
hearing walks
Shocks give, tread through hunching spine
No conscience raising better judgment
Each measured step is weight to mind
all powerful ~ descending and ascending those chromed stairways ~
but nothing mindless here no automated movements but full of measured thought ~rucksack ~ Power packed ~ Brilliant ~ Lib ~ @Libithina
April 17, 2011 at 11:35 am
Fine writing adam, full of what can only be called a measured angst. The little deaths and shackles, one at a time, wearing or slicing at us, the senseless-feeling perseverance, the weight of the past and the present carried on the back–your adjective choice here is just masterly, as is the final line.
April 17, 2011 at 12:19 pm
Yes, this does manage to feel heavy and breathless, which is perfect. I’m also a sucker for rhyme, so you really got me with that as well. Last line, so poignant.
April 17, 2011 at 12:44 pm
Very emotional writing. Who knew you could go there with this prompt. Great!
April 17, 2011 at 12:51 pm
Powerful stuff!
April 17, 2011 at 1:25 pm
intense writing, adam. “wrists stop bleeding” is a powerful image for me – wanting love before I’m dead….I hear these words coming from the center of the soul. wonderful expressions
April 17, 2011 at 1:40 pm
I decided to listen to this first. You gave it an effective voice, in the pauses especially. Fine take on the photo prompt.
April 17, 2011 at 2:01 pm
interesting and really powerful . thank you
April 17, 2011 at 2:06 pm
The imagery and wording in the poem paint a most interesting portrait of the events.
April 17, 2011 at 3:11 pm
Great imagery built within the words Adam, “Home not in her head” asks questions, thanks for the comments over at my blog, much appreciated !
April 17, 2011 at 3:57 pm
last two lines really hit home.. such rawness..truth… as always, a wonderful write and very well read ~
April 17, 2011 at 4:14 pm
It’s amazing that my simple image of a deserted escalator could prompt such an intense and moving poem. Thank you Adam, both for this poem and for organising this week’s photo prompt. Kind regards, James.
April 17, 2011 at 4:47 pm
Sounds like a hard road to go, Adam.
April 17, 2011 at 8:22 pm
Killer last line Adam! Great poem.
April 17, 2011 at 11:42 pm
A backpack full of fear….we all seem to carry one around whether regarding love or life or fear itself….one of first things we much get rid of before we can live and love again….love this photo….bkm
April 18, 2011 at 7:29 am
What a lovely reading of a powerful poem.
Some vivid imagery there …backpack full of fear…shackles forge at will…such loneliness too.
All the things a picture couldn’t say. But you said it most eloquently, Dustus.
April 19, 2011 at 2:19 pm
This is so good! That first stanza, backpack full of fear, sounds familiar.