Week 10 - Surrealist Poetry


Curtain Call

 The hollow pounding of the wood underneath my terrified shoes
I emerge into the screaming light, blind and clouded
I speak, the words blast into the air and slap the crowd with ferocity
My words slam against the wall, melt into the floorboards and stain the carpets
The seats dissolve underneath their tremulous weight
Each step I take echoes into the night sky
They shoot through my tiny body as I shrink underneath the lights
Stale wood and fog asphyxiate me as I struggle to find the words
My hands reach out to grasp them but they turn to sand and fall to the floor
People trod upon their dust as I slink away from the light
The frozen darkness consumes me as I escape
My hands return to me as my steps become soft and delicate
I prance through the shadowy figures who pass solemnly among me
I cannot make out any faces, yet the silhouettes haunt me with wisps of memory
Careful not to touch them I move faster towards another light
This light is softer, kinder to me
It invites me in with promise of safety and peace
I grasp the cold slippery handles and thrust open the gate to my destination
Light breathes upon me like a warm dusty foghorn
The silt settles in my hair and upon my thick eyelashes as I crawl through the rubble
Sharp, complaining nails threaten me and wood warns me to run
I begin to run, dodging and sprinting through the knotted wooden hell
Finally grasping a crusty and rusted handle
I thrust it open, and again am consumed by complete and total darkness
Deep crowded shadows shove at me angrily as I navigate their paranoid forest
They tug at my shirt, at my hair
My spirit begins to drift but I grasp it by the ankle and continue on
Always continuing on
Searching for one last light to bring me home

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