The Wall

The image came from Suzanne Olivante and the prompt from Robert Lee Brewer.

For today’s prompt, write a metaphor poem. That is, write a poem built around a metaphor. Remember: Metaphors actually take on another object (like “I am a Tree” or “I am a Rock“). This is not to be confused with similes, which are like metaphors (for instance, “I am like a tree” or “I am like a rock”), but not quite. Dig? If so, then you are a shovel or spade or bulldozer. Now poem the heck out of metaphors today.

sculpture-2209152_640.jpg

The Wall
(metaphor stolen from Roger Waters)

Is there anybody out there?
With my ear pressed to the cold,
I can almost hear laughter
or crying, screams, angry
protests, fists in the air,
I imagine.

I’m old enough to remember
when the walls weren’t as high
back when computers were too big
for our pockets and music
came on vinyl instead of streams.

It would be easy to give up hope
but I’m pretty sure that tapping
is some sort of code, a sign of life
so I’ll keep scribbling these poems
on paper, fold them into airplanes
and fly them over my wall.

About Bartholomew Barker

Bartholomew Barker was born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough, North Carolina where he makes money as a computer programmer to fund his poetry habit.
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2 Responses to The Wall

  1. JeanMarie says:

    This is great. Now that you’ve written this one, what am I going to write?! :)

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