Friday, May 25, 2012

Doors

Behind Door Number Three


Doors


O fate always opens a door they say
for every hinge or hand it blasts away;
O no, for every door that leaks cracked light
I say, another slams instead,and right
into the shattering face of a schlepp
who is never quite quick enough to step
back before cartilage snaps and blood gouts
coppery down his unexpecting throat.
The stinging smart of each hardwood denial
opens only doors for tears to fall in file,
a damburst that's impossible to plug
with any amount of reason’s tarry mud.

So much more sensible to sit and say
I didn't want to go there anyway.





Door knocker I , Carcassonne



May 2012




Posted for   Fireblossom Friday   at  real toads
Challenge: Stress




Header Image: Behind Door Number Three, by anyjazz65, on flick'r
Footer Image: Door knocker I, Carcasonne, by Stepheye on flick'r
Shared under a Creative Commons License


17 comments:

  1. I love the sonnet, the metaphor and the concluding couplet, which sums up how I feel about most so-called 'fun' social gatherings.

    Loving your glorious array of lilies.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Kerry--their season is brief here, but gorgeous(daylilies, not sonnets. ;-) )

      Delete
  2. This a bit near the bone for me, having just ordered doors from a firm which appears to have stopped trading - and still with my money! Apart from which thoughts, I found this an impressive write and very enjoyable.

    ReplyDelete
  3. smiles...doors open and doors close and it smarts at times when those that open close in your face...that is a reality i still feel the sting from somedays...i try not to stop stepping though...i dont want those dang doors to win...

    ReplyDelete
  4. I was really liking "reason's tarry mud" and then I read the ending couplet, and liked that even more. Second cousin to "I meant to do that"?

    I hate those slamming doors, almost as much as I hate the cheery fixers who pop right up and spout junk about "when one door closes, another one opens", or a window opens, or a trap door, or whatever it is. I'm waiting for one of them to be the one to take it on the beak, so that I can babble about letting the healing begin!

    I liked the rhyme and meter, too.

    Thanks for being part of my challenge dear Witchy!

    ReplyDelete
  5. LOVE the image you paired with, perfect for your poem!!

    I really enjoyed the raw sound of cartilage the coppery taste of blood!! Great descriptions within and the rhyme so easy!

    I enjoyed reading this one out loud several times!

    Thank you and smiles!!

    ReplyDelete
  6. I agree with everyone... and I love "schlepp" and the final couplet.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Ha! This is a viscerally powerful piece, and I love this sour grapes thought:
    "So much more sensible to sit and say
    I didn't want to go there anyway."

    ReplyDelete
  8. Replies
    1. Well, I cheated a bit, and this is a Clarian sonnet, thanks be to Samuel for introducing me to them--they're much easier for me.

      Delete
  9. When one door opens...there's another waiting to smack you in the face...love this!! Love the ending...

    ReplyDelete
  10. I just love this one. It's the perfect antidote to my glass half full, sunshiny, life is what you make of it rhetoric. Slap.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Perfection...and love the closing lines! Really well done.

    ReplyDelete
  12. I love your sonnet! Reminds me of "The light at the end of the tunnel is the headlights of the oncoming train!"

    ReplyDelete
  13. Love the sonnet and LOVE the hand opening its own door. How cool is that? I want a doorknob like that!

    ReplyDelete
  14. Clever and witchy! I love it!

    ReplyDelete
  15. as long as the door doesn't hit me on the ass on my way out, i'm good with them opening, closing or even revolving!

    i LOVE your poetry!!!!

    ReplyDelete

'Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance' ~Carl Sandburg