April Poetry Fundraiser

Day 15

The Beige – a response to “The Blue”
by Mandy Berry

There’s nothing quite like
Walking out of the beige – or is it off-white?
I was never sure.
Let’s call it
the beige, with cracking paint,
revealing the porous dry wall,
white doors open,
with a tiny shelf full of books
that I should read again,
but probably won’t,
and piles of paper I’ll never sort through,
necklaces that I’ll never wear again,
but never get rid of,
posters and drawings from my past,
relics,
useless things
that immortalize people and places
I’ll never see again.

The beige is my holding pen,
my lackluster base camp,
a background prop
that doesn’t belong to me,
never did,
or else I’d shut out the invasions
and make it comfortable.

How many people have I been
in this room?
How many forgotten laughs lie here?

Do you want to know me?
The answers aren’t here,
but I want to find them.
Let’s go,
and drink in the world outside,
and say goodbye to creaking wood
and rattling windows
and flickering lightbulbs
that I’ve experienced too many times to count.
Close your eyes,
feel the breeze…

Help me count down the days
until I leave
the beige
for good.

****

To the Sun 
by S.A. Bowden

You penetrate the drawn curtains
And light up my window
Pressing your bright fingers to my eyelids
I keep my eyes shut
Holding in the darkness, dreams, thoughts
That I do not want to bring into the light
I do not want to wake up and deal with today yet

****

Sixth Sense
by Sam Yoseph

I wait at the coffee table,
Waiting for you to come back home.
You haven’t been home in days,
And you left with such a sad look.

Welcome home! I practice saying
Over and over again,
Hoping on the off chance
you’ll come back soon.

I hear the keys to the front door,
Jingling softly and quietly.
I make my way over there,
Glad to see you’re back.

We left on such a good note.
We said goodbye,
And I love you,
But for some reason you didn’t come back.

I remember a rush of happy,
A bright flash as the light changed,
And you calling out my name
To say everything would be fine.

And everything is fine.

So you enter our home,
Keys dangling in your fingers,
And I get up with a smile.
Welcome home! I say.

You don’t notice me,
Take a look around the room,
And begin to cry.

I smile softly,
And cry with you.

 

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