Sidewalks are wet,
the smells of rain mixed
with carbon belched
in exhaustion, you pass
blank faces hastening
to blank destinations.
The church door is locked;
no one remembers your name.
This poem is submitted to One Stop Poetry for its Saturday Celebration of The Doors and singer/poet Jim Morrison. The poetry prompt is to write a poem based on a line from the song, “People are Strange.” To see other submitted poems, please visit the site.
8 comments:
Awesome! The church door is locked...aren't they always these days! Sanctuary no more, especially for the nameless! Brilliant take on the prompt that was much enjoyed!
I love this poem...
I'm reading a book called The Man Nobody Knew and it goes along with this poem nicely.
Jim Morrison.
Really?
Talk about "people are strange."
I don't know what I think of him as he was so troubled, so hurt, and so talented. Why does that seem to go hand in hand so often?
I don't usually comment on the poetry ... but this one caught my attention.
Bleak, compact, lots of sensory details. Well done!
the church doors are locked,
no one remembers your name
that about sums up my leaving of the church at 16...i came back later but...
Yes... that look of blank faces and destinations. Sadly even the church was/is strange ... depending on which face you wore. Hopefully, it's changing... but that's a whole 'nother pot of coffee, isn't it?
The doors of society can be locked but the sadness is when the door of the heart (extending compassion) is closed
Nice take on the prompt my friend and Happy Father's Day!!!
Great write - takes on a nice punch in quick tempo. Reads so well! "with carbon belched in exhaustion" great word play! ~ Rose
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