Tomorrow has taken to pressing up against the windows,
fingers splayed on the glazing,
eyes big like old iron lamps
swinging in the wind
this way, then that.
Where can you hide
in this glass house of yours,
with the statues you carved
out of all the words swallowed instead of spoken
and choked up behind closed doors,
with tomorrow still pressed up against the windows.
And what do you say
to the policeman with the kind eyes
who takes a statement,
writes down eyes like old iron lamps,
and promises that they will look into it
while tomorrow is still pressed up against the windows.
Tonight we’re being asked to think about the days of the week with our poems, and I’ve wandered a little off topic with mine by focusing in on the idea of tomorrow.
While you’re here, I just thought I’d mention that my poetry collection ‘It’s All In The Blood’ is available to buy through Amazon.co.uk and Amazon.com. It’s a self-published venture and a project that I’m incredibly proud of. I owe a huge amount of thanks to all of the dVerse Poets who have read and commented on my blog over the last couple of years for encouraging me in my writing, and helping me develop my poetic skills to the point where I could create a collection like this. Taking part in the dVerse prompts has become one of my favourite parts of the week and I’ve met some truly wonderful people. Thank you for everything.
Carol J Forrester 
ooh, that’s creepy, somehow. You are very good at creating an unsettling atmosphere. Well done on the book – how exciting!
Thank you Sarah, it’s very exciting. A bit of a pain to try and promote, requires a whole new set of skills that I wasn’t quite prepared for. I’m not sure if it’s my Englishness but every time I try to talk to someone about it I feel like I need to apologise for intruding on their time first.
I can imagine. Maybe you need to imagine you’re promoting it for somebody else.
That’s a good suggestion, I’ll have to give that a go.
😏
I like the beginning and ending lines about tomorrow pressed up against the windows.
I really like this poem. Wonderful description and use of repeating words. I enjoyed reading it!
Shakespeare has found his way into your poem, Carol – there’s a touch of ‘Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow’. I love the peeping-Tom creepiness of:
‘Tomorrow has taken to pressing up against the windows,
fingers splayed on the glazing’
and the surreal dreamlike quality of the glass house with statues and
‘…the policeman with the kind eyes
who takes a statement,
writes down eyes like old iron lamps’.
I sense a very strong uneasiness of Tomorrow that I definitely have felt from time to time
You had me at those /eyes like old iron lamps/. Kudos for choosing “tomorrow” . I wonder if anyone will choose yesterday?
I can feel tomorrow pressed up against the glass, and how we write poems with all the words we werent allowed to (or able to) say through the years. I like the policeman with kind (hopefully) eyes who will look into things. Very cool.
I like your take on this. Tomorrow never comes, my mother would say, cause its always today!
I think my favorite line is this, “with the statues you carved
out of all the words swallowed instead of spoken” so very evocative of hard words chiseled out of marble, taking up all the space and air in a room. Hard to get around or ignore. Very nice imagery.
Tomorrow is pressed up on the window, while today knocks on fingers and brain.
Reblogged this on Reena Saxena and commented:
Where can you hide
in this glass house of yours,
with the statues you carved
out of all the words swallowed instead of spoken
and choked up behind closed doors,
Enjoy a lovely poem by Carol Forrester..
First, a wonderful image of time pressed up against the windows. And second congratulations on the book!
Thank you.
focusing on tomorrow, no matter what day it is, it is a day some really fear. congratulations on the book!!