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Boxed Music
by Timothy SomersShe plays Grandmothers Music Box,
as she stares night down into dawn,
while smoking endless cigarettes
with ashes all around her head,
and scattered on the ground
up image of her self.
She waits like paintings gather dust,
starting with the frame.
She hums forever tunelessly,
while the music plays.
The song is all the same as life
down forgotten in the ground
up image of her self.
Tinkle-twang and boing and hum,
another night has just begun to
seep around the endless eyes of
ground up image of her self. 10/11/2005 Posted on 10/11/2005
Copyright © 2024 Timothy Somers
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 10/11/05 at 03:31 PM ...timothy, and i thought i wrote "stuff" that people huh-ed? about...mmmm, i "see" this woman as mayhaps Everywoman in this halfway misogynistic world and soooo...and i think i got the "ground-up" concept...errrah, was(n't) her self image ground up, like sausage...and i got ??? on the last two lines of the next to last stanza...the poetics are heavy, and good and pensive...peace, chaz |
| Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 10/11/05 at 07:47 PM Though slower at these things than my compadre Chaz, I followed the, from the "ground up" image and applaud its use, and the verse. nice! |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 05/02/06 at 03:20 AM I like every line of this - the "ground
up image" first appeared to me as her seeing herself from the ground to the top. The second time thru I began to read it as crushed like the cigarette ash. I can hear the music box tinkle over and over and over. Well done. |
| Posted by Megan Guimbellot on 10/21/08 at 12:14 AM "she waits like paintings gather dust" brilliant, the entire poem was briliant but this line hits something on the inside |
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