Shelter

Experimental Prose

Fuzzy are the memories of how I came to this spot,
or the shovel to be in my hands.
The first turn of the soil with the shiny metallic head and then another..
Slowly to start, gradually picking up the pace as it went.
Hours, days, months a growing obsession that raged on
until the depth was to my satisfaction.
Overwhelming was the smell of damp earth,
worms tangled in long hair and beetles wriggling between toes
as the sturdy walls were being built.
Each brick carefully laid and mortared securely
in copious amounts of tears.
Bed, lamp, table, chair, rug,
a hoarders stockpile of can goods and necessities.
What more could ever be needed?
At last farewell to the sun as the door closes
with the sound of the keyless lock clicking into place.
My haven
My sanctuary
My prison

You will never ever get to me in here.

Reviews

[The Verse: A Poetry Jou..]

Are you describing a home, or the need for a perfect home to become our shelter? My interpretation is of a housewife, whose only audience are the worms and beetles that keep her company even in death, but a need to try your best to stock up even on canned goods and even a whole in the ground you fill with warmth. maybe not.

[Rogue]

These are definitely some unique thoughts. I enjoyed reading them. Thank you. :)

[The Verse: A Poetry Journal]

My pleasure.

[Shane Winchester]

Building up walls to protect us from others can also be like digging a grave. This is what I get from this anyway. I like the double meaning here.

[Rogue]

-smile-
I can be very cryptic (pun not intended. Or maybe it was?) at times. I appreciate your thoughts and your reading. :)

[Mark]

Wow, poignant and a little scary. Worms in the hair, beetles between toes.... Great poem.

[Rogue]

Thank you, Mark.
Good to see you back and safe from your run. :)

[Mark]

well, safe anyway. I'm never really 'back' LOL I live out here. I do need to get back to Texas though. Haven't checked mail in over a month now.

[Rogue]

Safe is good. And you will get home when the road leads you there. :)

[Mark]

This is going to sound cliche, but it's true: The road is my home. :)

[Rogue]

Why did Willie Nelson just decide he needed to chime in (in my head) as I read that? :P

[Mark]

on the road again? or "Maybe I didn't love you... " :P

[Rogue]

Ooh the possibilities! But I am pretty sure Willie was on a tour bus making music with his friends... Smoking some funny smelling cigarettes too! :D

[Mark]

when I get back Dallas, maybe you'll do me the honor of having a cup of coffee?

[Rogue]

Look at you! And all in public too!
-grin-
I'd love too. Warm you though, with my current schedule and deadlines it will probably be fall. Will that work? :)

[Mark]

Time will tell. :) I'll PM you.

[Rogue]

Hahahahaha
And so we shall. :P
I look forward to it.

[Shaun Payton]

Im not sure if this a casket reference, sounded to me like a bomb shelter, and a compulsive feeling to escape the outside worlds fears. I love this piece. Its intriguing, its well written.

[Rogue]

Thank you, I really appreciate your kindness here. :)

[Shaun Payton]

You are welcomey:)

[zainul]

You have chosen the proper shelter purposefully a bit earlier.
In fact,that is the place where everybody has to go.
Thanks for sharing the imaginative piece.

[Rogue]

-smile-
Always happy to see your face on one of my pieces. Thank you for your generous review, my friend. :)

[zainul]

-smile-
It is always my pleasure to enjoy the tresure of your pieces.
But,I sincerely confess that this time I took longer time to be able to visit your world.
Sorry for that dear friend.

[Rogue]

No need to apologize for I have behaved the same. I too intend to rectify this as soon as I can. I've missed your warm gardens. :)

[zainul]

Yes,I accept.
We are good friends.
We try to manage to see the precious works of so many of our friends here.
And we have personal life,family and job(!)
How are you doing with other activities other than writing?
(You may skip too personal/confidential affairs)

[Casner P]

This definitely does not lack detail at all, I really like it. I also really like your tone of voice in this. My favorite lines are "At last farewell to the sun as the door closes with the sound of the keyless lock clicking into place. My haven My sanctuary My prison You will never ever get to me in here." that right there is a beautiful way to end the poem. I especially love the last line it is almost as if you you're being defiant to the outside world. Almost as if you're content with being inside this casket because not only it is it your prison but it is your sanctuary as well, but you're mostly content because you know no one will be able to get to you in there. It is almost as if that puts you at ease, that's great stuff. I could be completely wrong but, those last few lines definitely make me think; makes me rack my brain. Great work.

[Rogue]

Somehow I missed this and I am sorry.
No, you read this quite correctly and your insights are spot on.
Thank you. :)

[Travis Gibson (poetic h..]

I relate to this piece much more than I can truly admit to. Another inspiring piece!

[Rogue]

It makes me happy you can relate to it. Thank you. :)

[ChrissyTheRebel]

Very well penned.

[Rogue]

Thank you very much. :)

[Angi]

Rogue, this one gave me goosebumps. Digging a grave to live in. To escape the world, to escape someone, something? Maybe to make a safe haven down with the worms. Really nicely done. Angi~

[Rogue]

Thank you, Angi. :)

[Chris]

...the great escape...

[Rogue]

-smile-
That trick never works though..

[Chris]

...no...it doesn't...