…get value for money on this blog. Yes, another poem! This one is a poetic version of the short story I posted earlier, Spiral Stair.
Spiral Stair
Pink bedclothes, flowered wallpaper oppress
I long for poverty, turn to the view;
He, showered, says “Cathedral”, goes to dress
Down on the street, the word acts as our cue:
“Dimly lit” – words flicker, and go dark
I search for messages among the dead:
Nothing. My need grows sharper; calling Mark
“I have to climb the tower; clear my head”.
This spiral stair like hell goes on forever
the spine of some rough beast our steps will waken
I, Sisyphus, still hoping to be clever
but finding every thought already taken:
at last, a burst of light: the parapet
I lean and gaze: I’ll cheat this karma yet.