There’s a tip tap of water,
like fingernails rapping
against the inside of the sink,
clawing and chattering
as the boiler hisses long and slow
to the radiators reluctant,
waking, their yawns ratteling
as lorries rumble past
and the house shudders off dust
of old bricks loosening over time
until it feels like all that left holding
are the cobwebs strung along the ceiling
from timber to timber,
curved like this house’s sagging belly
while I sit alone
with my face raised and blank,
waiting for something to happen.
I wanted to write something new for DVersePoets’ Open Link night but I wasn’t sure what to go with so I took inspiration from today’s Daily Post Prompt: ‘Yawn – What bores you?’
I wasn’t entirely sure what bores me, so instead I decided to write about those moment where boredom sort of creeps up on you and you notice all those little things that slip by on the normal days.
Carol J Forrester - Writing and Works 
Carol, this is just a gorgeous capturing. Your use of alliteration, assonance and sound are so well done. I was there with you.
Thank you. It’s actually a pretty accurate description in places. The radiators do rattle like maniacs in this house. 🙂
Carol, you have crystalized the feeling of those kinds of days when nothing special seems to be going on, but when you look around in your environment there are sights and sounds all around!
Thank you Mary. That’s exactly what I was aiming for so it’s great to hear that’s what I achieved. 🙂
I’ve usually heard most of those sounds in the middle of a sleepless night. It’s good to know i’m not the only one.
Indeed, at night these sounds can be the loudest and often the most alien.
Carol, magnificent poem. The visuals are outstanding and brilliantly structured. 🙂
Thank you Charlie. It’s great to hear such lovely praise.
I’ve been there, I think, just waiting and noticing all the little things around you. Very good!
Thank you. They can be very peaceful moments. It’s nice to have chance to just take stock of what is around you.
all that left holding
are the cobwebs strung along the ceiling…. nicely done!!!
Thank you. The cobwebs line seems incredibly popular in this poem.
You made every day sounds found around us seem almost magical…what talent!
Sometimes it does almost feel as if a spell has been cast across the place, especially in the quiet, alone moments.
And to think, I am rarely bored. I love this poem of everyday sounds, the alliteration, the noticing that creeps up on one,
of old bricks loosening over time
until it feels like all that left holding
are the cobwebs strung along the ceiling…
Excellent! I used to hear those same sounds in the house where I was raised. so much in this one poem, one of your best, I think.
Thank you, it’s good to hear my poems are improving and this one could link you to something in your own past. 🙂
I think taking inspiration from the slow moments, from really listening to paint that dries… takes skill and patience.. well done.
Thank you. I was a little stuck for what to write and the daily prompt helped bump start that. Having my own home has meant I’ve had more of those moments where I’m on my own in it so it was nice to actually use that in a piece of writing.
A wonderful response to the prompt, and I had visions of a becraggled Hansel and Gretel cottage in a forest. I was NOT bored!
I’m glad you weren’t bored and it’s interesting to read your interpretation, especially as my own little, sagging house is in the centre of a town. Not quite Hansel and Gretel’s forest but perhaps a forest in its own way.
This is truly worth pondering over 🙂 loved this!!
Thank you. I’m happy to hear I gave you something to ponder over.
So many lines I really really like here!
“the house shudders off dust
of old bricks loosening over time”
and
“…cobwebs strung along the ceiling
from timber to timber,
curved like this house’s sagging belly”
You’ve captured so well, the idea of someone sitting, waiting for something, watching and suddenly noticing that which they’ve not seen before….and the description here is priceless…this old house aging, just like its occupant. And perhaps the house has not seen or noticed her again before….imagine what the house would see, if things were so quiet, that it too would begin to look more closely at her! 🙂
Really really love this piece!
I like where your thought took you with this piece. There could be a whole response poem here from the viewpoint of the house.
Yes! 😊. Next installment?
Maybe.
Living Nature
Broken homes..
one dies
one grows..
Pyramid
dust..
leaves
green..
Tree of Life
kNOwledge
Tree.. dead..:)
I really like how you included sound in this poem.
Thank you. 🙂
Simply wow ❤ Mesmerized.
Thank you, 🙂