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Open Poetry #44
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Song of the Hollow House (repost)
| Open Poetry #44 |
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Song of the Hollow House (repost) |
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unboundpoetess Member
since 2008-05-24
Posts 477
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Sorry for the repeat guys.The house that inspired this has finally been "stilled" by a controlled burn. I used to sneak in to read war letters that were scattered all over the floor. All are ashes now. Song of the Hollow House Umber dreams and hollow houses Lay hushed in dusk, perfumed Blackberry vines choke the porches In lightless darkling mood Resigned, to strangled surrender The bramble holds me, too The bramble holds me, too. White milky breast has turned to dust The suckling lips, gone pale Bleat a quivering lullaby The barren cradle wails Wrapped in wraithweb, the rocking chair I cannot breech the veil I cannot breech the veil. Old willows bow in sorrowsong The path is overgrown Ghostprints lost, grow indifferent moss To suffocate the stone Wild briars bridle ages cold The ivy wraps my bones The ivy wraps my bones. Beetles heavy with bitter board Stand sentinel, until Bequeathed to worms, the ghosts are left To linger on the hill Withered hymn of hollow houses soulsick lyric, be still Be still Be still Be still |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
This works wonderfully metaphorically, but even literally, I have such a thing for old houses. They hold so much history, and stand as silent witness to time. I just love them, and I get fierce urges to fix 'em up--not that I'm capable, but I do love it when I get to witness restoration. *smile* Maybe I just love restoration of all kinds. Forgive me. I'm chatty today. Loved the poem.  |
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Osprey Member
since 2009-04-12
Posts 249 |
Wonderful poem, really is. I once had the same experience. A little place called Goring, nestled in the Thames gorge. An old house, abandoned, and letters scattered all over the floor. I always had the feeling that I shouldn't be in the house, but never that I shouldn't be reading the letters. Someone had left that house and left them to be read. And the feeling that they should be left there was so strong. |
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WTBAKELAR
since 2008-09-09
Posts 1089Utah, USA |
Unboundpoetess, This is absoulutey beautiful, so well written, Very much enjoyed this one. Tracey |
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critical mass Member
since 2009-03-25
Posts 275Michigan |
Great poem Umber dreams and hollow houses Lay hushed in dusk, perfumed Blackberry vines choke the porches In lightless darkling mood Resigned, to strangled surrender The bramble holds me, too This is quite an opener. It is a poem in itself. Cheers CM |
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
I felt this from the sole of my soul. Exquisitely expressed. I wrote a suite of 2 poems, on a similar subject, but I am nowhere near your league. Thank you for the treasures with which you are enriching us. Currently, I don't have the time to read and even less to respond, but nevertheless have come across your sparkling gems. Owl |
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Dark Stranger Member Patricius
since 2001-03-19
Posts 13631West Coast |
they say the houses are alive as the wood of their walls soaks in life from the skin of those who live there...dunno, but some old houses know me and I have never been in them before...way cool |
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Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
This brings back the memory of an old abandoned house from my childhood where I sat on the floor, looking at old pictures that where just scattered around and wondering about the people who left them, This is just so well done, Love it. iDA |
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unboundpoetess Member
since 2008-05-24
Posts 477 |
Thank you, Ms. Blaze. I like you chatty. Osprey, I agree about the letters. I recall the air crackling as I read them. Tracey, thank you for your kind reply. Cheers back, CM. Hope you enjoyed. Humble thanks, Owl. I am a fan of yours. Dark, would one call that Jamais vu? Hmmm Appreciate you, Ida. There are many abandoned homes in my rural town. Perusing them as a child made me feel so Scooby-Doo..lol. TY |
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Prasad Nataraj Senior Member
since 2008-05-29
Posts 1149Bangalore,India |
Old abandoned houses never fail to inspire artists and poets, clam and pleasant during the day. Creepy, crawly during the night, lovely poem. "Hardwork pays in the long run" |
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