Scribbling Sensations
When I turn other things off,
I hear the air-conditioner hum with tiny teeth
I hear assurance from the fan beside my bed
I see the vertical textures in the lampshade of
The lamp that doesn’t work
I see a hat, purchased for walking, set cockeyed upon
The corner of a vintage-mirror frame
I feel soft touches as I type;
I hear the tapping of the keys upon the board,
Like Poe’s raven upon my chamber door
While my nose is in it, I smell and taste the coffee,
Hot enough for its vapor mildly to campaign
With warmth through my sinuses
I feel pain—more intense without distraction
I blink: I cannot hear it, though I know the upper lid
Has fallen on the lower (which will give a little)
and will rise and fall again
While other things are off,
I sense the world anew;
And, largely—like Genesis and Weldon Johnson’s
Work—I think it’s good
June 5, 2016 at 11:34 pm
oh geez. you touched all my senses in this vivid poem, brother. It’s good, indeed. more than good, I think.
June 6, 2016 at 2:35 am
Thank you for reading! I turned off media devices (and any noise from the computer), then wrote about what I sensed. I was kind of surprised.
I hope your new week is off to a pleasurable, promising start!
June 6, 2016 at 3:33 am
oh geez! that’s a creative thing to do, christopher! 😀
Thank youuuu! Promising, it is. 🙂
I hope your weekend ends peacefully. 🙂
June 6, 2016 at 5:52 am
And now I know your room’s surroundings 😀 😀
June 7, 2016 at 12:26 am
Why, yes, you do. Unfortunately, I have to go through piles of books in order to perceive the rest.
June 8, 2016 at 6:33 pm
🙂 Love that! I have so many unfinished books laying under my bed. 🙂