This Room

I choose the rooms that I live in with care,
the windows are small and the walls almost bare,
there’s only one bed and there’s only one prayer;
I listen all night for your step on the stair

Tonight Will Be Fine – Leonard Cohen

This room has seen many a thing
All the joy, the pain that a life can bring
The secrets invisibly etched into each wall
That only a select few can claim to recall
And there’s not too many of them left at all
As over time some secrets have come to air
And for each secret in which I took delight
Others I wait hoping they come to light
But that’s on another’s shoulders to bear
I choose the rooms that I live in with care

Decorating has been tried, a different vision
Very few things in this world I find lacking derision
Fresh paint never gave this room much cheer
Too much has simply happened I fear
I don’t pretend laughter is ever found here
Some have asked why, but most no longer dare
To look, you wouldn’t think there’d be much to say
And to be honest, I kind of like it that way
Dimly lit, my room lacks any savior faire
The windows are small and the walls almost bare

My sprees were tidal like the moon and the waves
I farm emotions just enough to seek what I crave
Only my bloody goals to orient
As every life I’ve touched – went
Once their value to me was spent
This life was one always destined for the chair
As my life like these wall crumble within
I know there’s a deep circle for my sin
It’s the bed I’ve made, and it’s too late to care
There’s only one bed and there’s only one prayer

Long ago your malaise took root in my soul
But I never even tried to keep it in control
The news inform folks of my lesser glory
But most things I’ve done are so gory
That only you know the complete story
My hide’s destined only for you to wear
Here in this room I sit each day awaiting fate
Knowing even then hate won’t alleviate
Pray for heaven? We know I’m not going there
I listen all night for your step on the stair

====================

dVerse Poet Pub | Meeting the Bar

20 thoughts on “This Room

  1. He (Leonard Cohen) has done some wonderful works hasn’t he. This is a wonderful, detailed look at those walls and the history they hold. The mistakes, regrets, the bed we all have to lie on. Very deep and filled with vivid imagery.

    • Oh I think it’s a very good thing that mine remain silent. I amuse enough people with my antics, don’t need my walls laughing me also. Thanks Victoria.

  2. That is quite a tour de force: producing such rhyming stanzas and I love the endings taken from what I presume is a song?
    The secrets yet to be unfolded intrigue me. Have you checked the window panes? Schoolboys love to scratch secret messages on glass. Let us know if you find any 🙂

    • Thank you Aprille. The form I used to write this is called a glosa. Yes, the borrowed words are from a Leonard Cohen song. If a school boy is looking through my window panes, I doubts he’s thinking to scratch a message – smiles.

    • Thanks Charles, you know me and my love of using the glosa form. I enjoy taking another’s words and expanding on the thought, but especially when I can take them in a completely different direction.

  3. This is a clever and frightening piece–clever use of rhyme and repetition and mystery, and very POE-like in a sense of a crime committed with “secrets” in the 1st stanza, “too much has simply happened” in the second, blood and sin in the third, and finally gore and hides and waiting for an attacker (?) in the 4th. Gosh golly gee, you’ve got me shaking on my knees, and I’d call that pretty effective poetry.

  4. To look, you wouldn’t think there’d be much to say
    And to be honest, I kind of like it that way
    Dimly lit, my room lacks any savior faire
    The windows are small and the walls almost bare

    I could relate to this very closely. Powerful thoughts throughout.

    • Interesting, I cannot abide bare walls; there has to be *something* on them. I’m sure somewhere there would exist some analysis as to our psyches just based on our walls, Thanks David.

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