The chalk was betrothed

to the slate


Placed equations and explanations

on black skin

simply to be

wiped away


As she felt herself losing

her ability to talk

the dust

was proof

fading away


Then with his blank stare

and hand ready to erase


She took this as a wave good-bye,

 moved to the street

                where the sweat

of a young girl,

movement of feet

and the rain


Could mingle with her skin

and her thoughts.

16 thoughts on “Chalk

  1. I really like the ‘chalk & slate’ metaphor. There are so many sense sensations with the idea of chalk and slate; abrasive touch, clear words, uncomfortable sounds, dry unpalatable taste and the half chemical half organic smells. All of that brought so accurately and neatly to bear upon relationships and the transience of them, which again is the essence of the wipe clean slate and the removable chalk. Very clever and no small amount of poetic skill to get it ‘just so’ as you always seem to do. Impressive.

    • Thanks. It is a simple pairing but there’s something special in the mundane. Claes Oldenburg’s soft sculptures have always held a special place in my mind. There’s always another way to see everything.

  2. ‘Poet, pseudo-philosopher, blue collar overnight worker, former cook, vegan, coffee drinker’, kjp we seem to have a few things in common.

    work and word combinations that are so different from my own always sparks my interest, i followed you so i could return and dig a little deeper.
    thanks for liking my poem, it was only my second attempt.

    your like means a lot.


  3. I adored the sense of amatory youth and urgency that your words evoked in me. Maybe its a hint of nostalgia’s past memories expanding into our collective consciousness. This projection offers a familiar sigh that can only be summed up as our ‘glory days’ so that it may maintain that echo seemingly lost in our layered yesterdays!

    Poetry is read only by poets and that’s its sickness.
    ~Carol Rumens

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