Broken Road

 

staring out the window

from my attic room

looking at the little church

willing the doors to open

preacher to stride across the crackled street

blow the hopeless out my back door

wandering off my front porch

minding my own business

sitting on the chapel steps

by the back door waiting for fate

to save my soul

pulling petals

he loves me he loves me not

over and over till I get it right

 

 

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

It's spare, but there is some really top-shelf use of language here--e.g., "blow the hopeless out my back door", "waiting for fate/to save my soul". Illustrates marvelously how subtle inferences can be much more powerful than straight-ahead, in-your-face prose. This is just a fine, fine piece of writing.

[J.P. Bristow]

This is a work of sheer genius...and I have never said this before to anyone here....the inferences alone boggle the mind and I read and reread this numerous times just to fathom the depths of your words here.......from dark to light...eg. backdoor/front porch......attic/church.....own business/chapel steps........to the wordplay and action waiting/pulling.......religion-guilt-salvation-atonement-realization-affirmation and repent......I can't even begin to describe ...nope I won't for my words are mud.....the brilliance of this.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Smile... God loves you! And I really like your poem.

[Bubo]

sitting on the chapel steps
by the back door waiting for fate
to save my soul
pulling petals
He loves me he loves me not
over and over till I get it right

Such sorrow in this.........waiting for hope, waiting for fate to step in and the last few lines such imagary of pulling petals as if to find answers..........I remember actually cheating doing that a few times until I got the answer I wanted!
Beautifully written.