Someone has nailed a note to the front door like one left for the milkman -- but it reads: THIS HOUSE IS DANGEROUS KEEP OUT The house's number, that I'd thought was six, is twenty six. The two is on the ground. All is boarded up, but none too well -- a plank has fallen, and a window, like an eye half open, stares at me with some malevolence -- and all the depths of ocean. Does something far too grim for airing harbour there? Strangest of all: the morning paper in the front door tells, for those who care about these things, of shattering events around the world. But no one does, the paper goes on getting wetter in the rain. There's no one here to care or take it in. Three signs of life I see, and only three: a tree is coming into leaf, a cat runs furtively from just behind a concrete wall to garden rubbish bins. Precariously, a mouse's life hangs from its teeth. The garage doors hang crookedly on rusted hinges to reveal a jet black Cadillac -- with patches of dark indigo, like someone beaten black and blue. It might as well have been a hearse as adjunct to this house of death. But wait! A further sign of life: a nest of robins in a smashed headlamp... I'm imagining the Cadillac as hearse -- or maybe just another funeral car -- processing down this cobbled hill -- and who will follow it and all the mourners shaken up inside? The cat perhaps, the paper boy, the refuse men and those who put the sign in place -- and he who didn't know him: me.
The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
A Birthday in April ~ Wordsworth Prompt from The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (The first of three posts which will celebrate the l...
It all depends, you see, how you go about it. And that I cannot tell you, for that will be dictated by you and by you knowing your friends...
Hello everyone who follows David King (My Father). On behalf of the family this post is to let you know that Dad sadly passed away, peacefu...
My belated and qualified thanks to The Guardian for Saturday's book reviews by readers. Less jaded than the usual re-views from professi...
Saturday, 1 December 2012
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
Mysteriously beautiful,Dave! At least someone has the good sense or the 'audacity' to put up the sign. Great!
interesting...i wonder at the end man...was the house a great metaphor for you ...the title makes me think too on how we label things one way but that ends up being because of how we perceive it and not reality....nice write man
Loved the description of this house, Dave. Lots of detail, almost as if it was describing a crime scene. Wait! Maybe it was. And, yes, I would follow to.
Whew... that was quite the read.
Gripping. I wondered if the narrator was going to go and push the paper through the door. The cat and the mouse dangling precariously from it's mouth, not know if it was going to be living or dying got me....
All was bleak and then, the Robin's nest... wow
So filled with atmosphere and vivid imagery.
Ab Fab Dave!
A magic realism which ends in the imagination, for the car will not move without a driver, will it? Thank god for the imagists, young and old, who stalk our empties.
This kept me on the edge of my chair ... love the way you force us to 'figure' things out for ourselves.
Loved the vivid description of this! Pretty foreboding imagery brought it all to life. Nicely done!
In this one, I love how a happenstance (covered, fallen number) sets you off on an entire Versailles corridor, dear.
~ > < } } ( ° >
> < 3 3 3 ( ' >
~ ~ ~ <°)333><( ~ ~ ~
So deeply moving, Dave! The demise of the inhabitant - or the house itself?
Dark and intriguing. I love this :)
Such a melancholy piece. Boarded up or obviously deserted houses always have that effect on me. And then my uncontrolled mind started wondering 'what if the sign had been put up by a disgruntled previous inhabitant - disappointed in love perhaps - or something more serious...'
This was one of those poems where I am sure everyone reads there own stuff into it. Well crafted and gripping.
Thanks for this cheering comment.
Yes, perception is all I think. I didn't start out with the idea of the house being a metaphor, but that certainly happened along the way.
Well, yes, maybe it was a crime scene. Now if only I'd thought of that...
Yes, I guess that's how life seems to me. You're expecting bleak or you're expecting joy and suddenly you get the opposite. The two seem inextricably mixed somehow, almost like they're two sides of the same coin - to coin a cliche!
Well said! Yes indeed, I'll second that. Thanks for.
Thanks Helen - and actually I was figuring it out as I wrote. Helpful comment.
Hi, Good to have you visiting and good to have your comment. Thanks for saying.
Nice point. Thanks for making it.
Yes, I thought this was one where I could allow a measure of ambiguity.
The Elephant's Child
A brilliant What if? I like it a lot. (Wish I'd thought of it!) Thanks for give the old mind another jolt.
Yes, deliberately left the door open for other thoughts to wander in. Thanks Carl.
Very intriguing. You kept me guessing, especially because of the clues (or were there any?): the cat, the newspaper, the robins. :-)
Greetings from London.
Post a Comment