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He Bleeds Rust: The Patience Of Inanimate Objects– W3 Prompt 45

Red skies in the morning
with my little eye, I spy them first
I could warn the family
and never be wrong
if only

— if only I had a voice

Take an umbrella, I’d tell them,
though I know the whole lot
would grow deaf
except for Yuki, who’d hear me
hiss
— hiss softly into her ear

Aww Yuki, her hair barely reached
my chin— one day long ago
but she tiptoed; with baby fingers
poked my eye
— poked all of me, the little sprite!

oh
what
is
that
beautiful
thing
that
just
happened

Yuki don’t poke me no more
she’s grown fingers, lanky soft
that stroke my face and
now and then
blows air into my keyhole,
— cooling my behind

Yuki’s going away to college
she intimated to me one day
I never saw that sunset coming
I wished it wasn’t true
—wasn’t true
ergo, I pine for her

I cry rust, I bleed rust
my life is a disillusion—
I stop heeding the sky
start dreading the hours
’till a trail of rust bleeds from
my eye

A handyman comes to exchange me
for a new keyhole that will never
— never, ever know
the touch of my Yuki;
apple of my eye,
nor the honor of bleeding for her

© selma


Written for W3 Prompt #45: Wea’ve Written Weekly at the Skeptic’s Kaddish
for . David is the PoW this week and the guideline is simple:

  • Write a poem from the perspective of an inanimate household object, using personification.

Thanks for reading my contribution today.
Image by Elisa from Pixabay 

Selma Martin
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This Post Has 42 Comments

    1. Selma Martin

      Personifying inanimate objects is an interesting exercise. I hope you liked it. XoXo

    1. Selma Martin

      Aww, LuAnne. I’m delighted to know this. Thanks so much. Xoxo

  1. Cindy Georgakas

    Such a beautiful poem Selma.,.. your sweet one leaving soon?💗

    1. Selma Martin

      Thanks for reading, Cindy. Written for the prompt. My boys are testing their wings in society’s jungle. Empty nesters here.
      Glad you read my offering. Xoxo

      1. Cindy Georgakas

        It’s a pleasure always Selma. I do love that and thanks for sharing your birds in flight.. xo 💞

  2. memadtwo

    We should all have someone (or thing) that feels such emotion for us. (K)

    1. Selma Martin

      I totally agree every one should have this kind of send off, right? Thanks, K. Your words bring magic. Xoxo

  3. rajkkhoja

    What a sweet lovely poem. Very nice words written in the poem. I like.

      1. rajkkhoja

        Most welcome!

  4. Sadje

    Aww, I love this Selma.

  5. Jules

    Ah… I’ve done something like this a long time ago. The house and things in it helps protect a young girl by tripping up the villian. I’m not sure where that story is right now.

    I’m sure you’ve heard this joke…; When is a door not a door…
    …when its ajar…

    1. Selma Martin

      Thanks Jules. The door, when it’s aJAR, is not aDOOR!! hehe. So you also wrote one like this one. Wonderful. Aren’t they fun? I had fun with this one. Thanks for reading. Blessing you.

      1. Jules

        Playing with words and their various meanings is just what ‘we’ do! Have a great weekend!

  6. ben Alexander

    WOW, Selma… this is SO poignant… I love it.

    <3
    David

    1. Selma Martin

      You liked it, I see… yay. Thanks so much, David. Blessings.

    1. Selma Martin

      Lauren. I am honored to receive these lovely words from you. I’ve already come to see your light, and adore your light. Thanks for encouraging me with these that I know are honest. Blessing you.

    1. Selma Martin

      Gorgeous?! Aww, you. Thanks so much. I’m thrilled you read. xoxo

  7. Aaysid

    Gorgeous poetry, Selma! ❤️

    1. Selma Martin

      Aaysid, you are too kind. But thanks anyway. I’m glad to know the words hit their mark. I appreciate you. xoxo

      1. Aaysid

        It is always a pleasure, Selma.😊❤

  8. michnavs

    I so love the form Selma: how it was written and the line stops…brilliant❤️

    1. Selma Martin

      Thanks, Mich. Thanks for reading and stopping to comment.

  9. D. Avery @shiftnshake

    The keyhole has seen so many comings and goings. Of course the child with her busy inquisitive fingers would become a favorite. Such a sad ending.

    1. Selma Martin

      yes, indeed, it knows a lot about the people it guards, the neighborhood, and about the elements. I appreciate you stopping to read and comment, D. Blessing you. xoxo

  10. lesleyscoble

    I adore rust.
    Now I shall cry rust.
    ‘tis a magnificent poem 🧡

    1. Selma Martin

      Sweet. Thanks for the heads up, dearest David. I appreciate you. Give me a moment. xoxo 💜

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