It’s almost as if someone forgot to turn the radio off.
Not in this room
but the one across the hall or down the corridor,
a somewhere that can’t be found
no matter how many corners I check.
The distance turns voices to static,
punctured with partial comments
slipping between floorboard
like strings of mist on summer mornings.
Even if I press my ear to the wallpaper
I still can’t link the lines into one another.
The harder I try
the deeper the crackle in the speakers.
If I busy myself,
turn the dishwasher on,
boil the kettle,
fill the house with the rattle and clatter of things needing to be done,
I might just stand a chance.
A hiccup in the warble leaves a sentence
pressed against my ear,
burrowing its way through
to find the next line
in the dark of the grey matter inside.
All the while the radio continues playing
in a room I cannot find.
Daily Post: Constant
Awesome write. An absolute pleasure to read. Love that finale.
Thank you so much.
Loved your style, keep it up 👍🏻👍🏻
This is really something, what a treat! Thank you for sharing, absolutely loved it.
I wonder if you and Kim aren’t on the same wavelength, even if distant?
It would see we are, how odd.
“A hiccup in the warble leaves a sentence pressed against my ear”… I love this phrase!💖
Thank you. I had a lot of fun with words in this piece.
Sounds one cannot avoid. Sometimes unawareness of something is good.
“Even if I press my ear to the wallpaper
I still can’t link the lines into one another”
But it lingers….great write.
Thank you Neeraj, I’m glad you think so.
I found this very disquieting if that is a word. I felt like I too was stuck in the corridor.
That seems to be the general consensus with this piece. I didn’t intend for that to happen but I’m a little proud that it seems to have evoked such strong emotions.
“If I busy myself, . . .
I might just stand a chance.”
No peace or rest for the weary in this one. Great write.
Thank you Linda.
Your poem has got under my skin, Carol. I especially like the lines:
‘The distance turns voices to static,
punctured with partial comments
slipping between floorboard
like strings of mist on summer mornings’.
The bit about pressing your ear to the wallpaper reminds me of the story ‘The Yellow Wallpaper’ by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, in which a woman believed there were women creeping around behind the wallpaper.
My favourite lines are:
‘A hiccup in the warble leaves a sentence
pressed against my ear,
burrowing its way through
to find the next line’.
I remember that story and you’re not the only one who seems to have found the wallpaper a little sinister. Thank you for reading.
The way you use words and juxtapose sentences in this poetic write
is stunning and beautifully well composed.
Thank you, that’s a wonderful compliment to hear.
You welcome, Carol. 🙂
This has both a playful tone but yet it feels claustrophobic.. the wallpaper seems to eat you… love it.
Thank you. I was trying to put into words what it can be like trying to write sometimes. When the words are half there but you’re struggling to put them onto the paper.
Thoroughly enjoyed this Carol…so well written!
Thank you Janice.
Love the sounds in the poem, from hiccups to clatter of the house.
Thank you. It’s great that people are picking out different lines as their favourites, it hasn’t just been the one.
Beautiful use of words … which left me filled with sympathy and wishing that the sound of hope would surface.
Thank you Beverly. This piece seems to have really drawn people in.
I love the mystery in this!
Thank you.
“It’s almost as if someone forgot to turn the radio off.” this line stopped me in my tracks similarly to how the lines in Slaughter 5 stopped me, “Listen. Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time.” this was a delight to read, even if a bit of that dreamy-awake feeling about it.
Thank you, I’m really glad you liked that line. It was one of those that when I wrote it I just got that feeling I was going to like what happened next.
I know! It makes me think we only hear that which we are supposed to hear. Like a grace.
Made me a bit uneasy. Can be frustrating to hear what no one else can and not know the source.
I had a dream like that once.
Really?
I love the word choice and the ending. I have felt like this sometimes in the murmur of the air conditioner I think I sometimes hear music. But then I usually hear music so maybe my brain’s always playing. 🙂
I’ve had that, when something is whirling away beside you and you start to question what it is you can actually hear.
It does make me question my sanity…or whether the air conditioner is picking up radio stations. 🙂
A beautiful write! I like how your language evokes that insidious feeling symbolized by that ever-playing radio!
Thank you, I’m amazed by how much love this piece is getting.
My pleasure, Carol! 🙂
This had all the almost unbearable lucid of a nightmare and all the random coincidences that occur therein. A fantastical and well-paced tale.
Thank you, though I hadn’t realised how sinister this poem came across to some people until you guys started pointing it out.
Very well written. Reminds me of songs I can’t get out of my head.
Thank you, it’s amazing how many ways people have taken this piece.
Wow. I like everything about this. It puts me there in place and time to listen seeking clarity alongside you.
I really love the multi-dimensional feel of this piece, the awareness that something else is going on and not having the dial to turn the static to a clear station.
Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it.