new furniture

last of the death poems collection.

new furniture

this cold couch pushed against the wall is too young
to know who I am, how many nights I have roamed
in the abandonment of hallways and time machines
it does not hold you dying, quietly, unto yourself..
it knows nothing of my days of resurrecting love,
the final failures in a rainy night of ambulances.
this table never held our drinks or knew the slam
of anger or hilarity, a place to place pills for dividing
into the hopeful magic that would erase
all those years of bodily abuse.
this lamp never knew your face in its' light, has not shone
on the hopeful or helpless human desires, has not watched
in the small circles of light, spilling beneath it,
how fast eyes can shut, a record with the needle lifted
too abruptly, spinning on and on in silence.

Reviews

[James Paulin]

Comfort is temporary as wear and tear take their toll. This poem speaks of sadness and loss with the melody of a lament. The beauty is the first line, the title which sets the note of beginning again with circumstances uncertain but with time become familiar. I enjoyed the way the theme was scripted and the haunting termination.

[OBWhiteHawk]

Wow this is about new furniture and yet in that telling you speak of so much more. Really awesome poem I am impressed with your skills.

[Doctor JKC]

No needles for records except online for a pricy price.
Gosh ,I don't have anything older than cobra candle holders
I got for 5 bucks from a street guy dressed as an arab asking
for some cash for camel food.
I had a kitchenette white enamel table we got out of the trash
in the 70's living in the East Village, that had deeply scratched
in it, My Cay Eats Off This Very Table.

Your poem brings up your own and my priceless memories.
A masterful work with no sogginess,
Jack

[Samuel Dickens]

Funny, I tend to think of inanimate objects much the same. After my younger brother died, I was drawn to the recliner that he always sat in when he came to visit. There was some essence or memory of him there, so I sensed.

[celyn]

I've spent a majority of my time on writerscafe tonight reading through your poems..
They're thoroughly beautiful and thrilling and just so damn good!
Another truly great write. :)

[Emily B]

I think it is a poem for my mother and my grandmother and half a dozen aunts and cousins . . . you are our voice

[Jaffa Forbes]

Great but quite a sad write... amazing imagery. I love the image of a record and needle at the end, like the poem itself was the music and now although it's still there we can't hear it. Good stuff,
ciao
Jaff

[Michael X]

phenomonal work phibby, its a play, a string of prerfect images, in essense takes the meaning and brings the scripted time-frameto life, and the experience is riveting, beautiful job. keep up the great work

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Oh, I love this piece, just excellent. I was interested that the bed never recieved any mention, now that is just sad. lol

[angelina neves]

very touching... beautifully done... amazing idea, using the furniture

[TL Boehm]

articulate, bittersweet writing. It creates its own ache....well done.