Breaking through Curtain Walls
Hands of peaks and valleys pale
slushy feet long for grass and sun.
A whirlybird in a swivel chair,
its sweaty seat like chewed-up gum.
I talk, no snaps; furry ears perk up.
I am alone, I want to run.
Isolation is the wall I’ve built.
As a child I spent lonely sprees
safe within my castle door. Yellow
curtains offered sunshine, bright
comfort. Crisp and clean tranquility
when all around was war. Branching
out I tripped on roots time and
time again. Like a ricochet I shied
away, dying with each backwards step.
Isolation is the wall I’ve built.
I drank and ate and sexed myself,
eroding secrets termites to my soul.
Until I raised my arms, asked for help.
Levitating pesky ghosts, letting go--
no longer fueled by fear. Now when left
all by myself, my God is with me near.
Isolation is the wall I’ve built.
@laurie kolp
*To find out more about the Bop form and contest rules, visit Poetic Asides.
3 comments:
Ooh... I love this piece. Tight write, powerful!
Really, Laurie, this is one of my favorite poems that I have read of yours. Terrific. I am going to have to look for that Bop form.
From the depths of my heart, I thank you Mary and Reflections.
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