my chair.

my chair.

A Poem by Boyd Johnson

 

I’ve had a terrible time,

Trying to rationalize

My happiness.

 

I’m not used to this.

 

I think,

I’ve almost got it.

 

I saw a table,

With 6 seats;

 

3 occupied,

3 not,

 

and you could see,

through a hole in the floor,

 

that there was another table,

just below,

 

with 3 seats occupied,

and 3 not.

 

All any of them did,

Was discuss

Their time,

On the other side.

 

Their seats, waiting patiently to be refilled.

Their friends, always knowing they’d be back.

 

I saw this image,

And wanted to paint a picture.

 

So I did.

 

As I watch my own chair,

Burn.

© 2008 Boyd Johnson


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Reviews

There is something here.
I have what I think this is, but I won't sign off on it for any critical eye awards.
Others get it, maybe more than me.
But I do feel this.
Whatever that amounts to in the end.

Posted 16 Years Ago


Woooow what a picture
I just love the last lines
Reaaly powerful and...
well, it is just well done, be proud of yourself


Posted 16 Years Ago


I adore your style. Fabulous metaphor! The last line, though, was the hook, line & sinker. Very nice. : )

Posted 16 Years Ago



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Added on May 14, 2008

Author

Boyd Johnson
Boyd Johnson

the great and oft forgotten north of nyc. poughkeepsie., NY



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a freak. an outlaw. a hot piece. -j.m. a hometown boy who loves the hudson, his drink, and his hat. hiding under the train tracks, with a bottle of irish moonshine, toasting to it slipping thro.. more..

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