Closing in, up against the, tumbling down, just another brick in the…oh hell, you figure it out!

*

 

I think I’ll just stare at the wall for a while,

painted in latex, light beiges and creams

Searching for nail holes in random-like patterns,

counting the cracks that appear at the seams

 

Glance at the baseboard, an alternate color,

maybe a calendar hung from a hook

Red and blue dates with a few of them circled,

months of the year hanging there as I look

 

Gaze at an outlet, it’s face made of plastic,

switches that point to the fixture they light

Dark jagged lines by a chair that is rubbing,

corners and ceilings and floors all fit tight

 

Seeing the texture and shapes it’s creating,

abstract illusions as faces appear

Near the reflection of blinds from the window,

illumined distortions that aren’t really clear

 

Flat as a pancake, not sure if that matters,

straight as an arrow, hey that’s kind of cool

Strong as an ox, that is one man’s opinion,

he was the carpenter wielding the tool

 

Funny, but while I am sitting here staring,

it seems that it is now staring at me

It doesn’t blink, never changing expression,

making me wonder just what does it see

 

I shouldn’t worry, it’s merely a structure,

sheet rock and lumber supporting the roof

Something to separate one from another,

see for yourself if you really need proof

 

So….

 

That is my day if you happen to wonder,

pen in my hand amidst office decor

Jotting some lines that are found in the boredom,

perhaps next time I will stare at the door

 

 

 

Author's Note

Some days are just like that....

Reviews

[Lorry]

I wonder do we still exist whilst we lose ourselves in staring at things beyond what we usually see, as they take on different perspectives and morph into other things, like faces and shapes... Or are those things like walls trying to tell us something more than what we usually perceive as a wall, but now question, when faces and shapes appear, until we are distracted by someone telling us we missed our lunch break and would we like to work some overtime tonight?
Well, that's what happened to me, before I slipped out the office quietly, never to return again. And that was in 2014!
Thays how scared I was of office walls morphing. I even moved house, to a different city, just to make sure that face didn't follow me home one night and swallow me up into the matrix..... Or it might just have been something I accidentally inhaled as I passed a hippie! 😊

[willweb]

You never know, the air is filled with a vast assortment of strange and wonderful things depending on which neighborhood you decide to traverse. Thanks so much my friend. I rather enjoy the faces I find, gives me someone to talk to during the day and these faces listen, never once interrupting...that is a nice feeling.

[DIVYA]

I could relate deeply to your reverie here, my friend. I often have moments like the ones you describe here, at my own office. I loved the detailing and the rhyming and meter in this poem, especially the second verse, with the mention of the calendar. This is such an inspiring poem and one that I enjoyed so totally.

[willweb]

Thanks so much Dear Divya. I always enjoy when you stop by, you always make this office a much prettier place. : )

[DIVYA]

I shall keep dropping. It’s a joy to read you, my friend.

[emmajoygreen]

What to do next, how to do it!? Walls cave in when the mind stares vacantly as do emotions, colours, shapes. Nothing 'out there' touches because the mind is closed, ennui has set it, nothing matters. Perhaps
Hope your hope wins!

[willweb]

Thank you so much Emma. Often for me staring at a wall is fun if it is textured because there is always something very cool hiding in plain sight.

[emmajoygreen]

Yes, can and do understand that but in the same difference prefer to look a grains of wood to find what is or not there. Tis said that there's reason in everything although - not only reasonable!
Your penultimate stanza says much.

[William Michael Reeves]

If only there was a fly on the wall to report who wins the staring contest. You gave the wall life with your words, then the wall took your life by keeping your attention from the things that matter. But then, having walls really does matter. They're worth our attention and we can hang so much on them ... imagination and memories! Don't let the door hit you in the a*s!

I wrote a short story about a room that couldn't understand it's sentience. It was always on the tip of its knob, but couldn't quite put its moulding on it. There's a couple ideas for your door poem.

[willweb]

Thanks so much. Just something I wrote sitting in my office one day trying to find something to write about. That's where I am right now...hey, quit staring at me. Not you, this wall...how rude.

[Betty Hermelee]

I get it! I find myself staring at walls or out of the window.....as we stare like that we find little defects that we've never seen before, or perhaps something new as well...your descriptions are wonderful, and does the wall stare back at us? who knows?
Fun poem Will
Warmly, B.

[willweb]

Thanks Betty. I appreciate your kindness

[Betty Hermelee]

You're very welcome Will
Warmly, B

[Stella Armour]

staring at inanimate things can be mesmerizing you know, i suppose you could personalise it all so it could have thoughts ?..... maybe thoughts about the guy who sits staring at it ...

[willweb]

Thanks you very much Stella.

[Soren]

Frustrating, circular, frozen, stuck, feelings that go with this piece. I liked the fragment like composition of this piece it seems so internal in its mental process. Nicely done Will.

[willweb]

Thanks so much my friend.