Poetry (59)

Hello Escritori,

I don’t know what possessed me to write this but I really was getting quite desperate for poetic content and this led me to stare despairingly around for subjects. Hence the carpet.

However, people, get ready for The White Room on Tuesday!



We have a new pale grey carpet

In the Sitting Room.

It makes sense to call it that

Rather than a Living Room.

Don’t we live, whilst inhabiting

Every chamber of the house?

Or so I assume…

Unless it lives, instead

And is somehow sentient?


Best not to call it a Lounge either.

‘Lounge’ connotes something libidinous

Might be going on whilst one is

Recumbent in a slave-ridden,

Wine-drenched Roman salon. 

And the carpet, you’ll recall,

Is new, after all.


It’s 80% wool and

Produces a lot of fluff

Hence vacuuming it.

More than quite a bit

More than you would

If it were synthetic stuff.


I stir the fibres to a frenzy

The colour of a winter sea

Or a poet’s existential dream

Or a sky of melancholy.


It makes the carpet

A shade more dramatic

Than it is, essentially

And gives me leave to

Render it in poetry.


(© Copyright Pola Negri, 02/09/2016.)




3 thoughts on “Poetry (59)

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