I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

29 April 2008

Half a Phone Call

April Challenge 27: Today's prompt is to write a poem that is only one-half of a two-person conversation, or the "one side of a phone line" poem.

He came to see me, you know.
Knocked on the door one day.
I was in bed with the worst flu.
I dragged myself to the door.

I was pleased to see him,
I really was. But my legs ached.
I had to go back to bed
and talk to him from there.

No, he wouldn't mention that;
too wrapped up in himself.
I had to bribe Amy to see him.
'Find out if he's changed,' I said.

She didn't seem to think he had,
but I don’t know what they said.
Oh he did? We like it; otherwise
we would have done something else.

Yes, he does that. He tried
to do it to us too. I don't know
how to say this, but he's the most
manipulative person I ever met.

He's quite ruthless. I wonder who
he learned that from? It's as if he went
and trained in those techniques. Where
do you study brainwashing, though?

Do you think he's crazy? No,
I don't see you that way. I think he's
more autistic than you – the lack
of compassion. You're not like that.

He's like a sort of cult leader. Oh dear,
I hope he never gets any power
over people's minds! He's also very good
at making people love him.

Don't get me wrong, it was really nice
to see him, for a while. I was glad
he came, and I was glad when he went.
I feel deep affection for him.

© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2008


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