Brick Wall

For NaPoWriMo Poetry Prompt #10: Day 10

centered, depression, eyes, blood, silence,
hear, smudged, asked, forced, bricks


Brick Wall

Depressed brick
centered in wall
threatens all
smoothness which
it otherwise
would contain.

Eyes are forced
to see its blood
smudged surface
while ear
pressed near
can only hear
question asked…


Elizabeth Crawford 4/10/14

Image is a manipulated photograph of a brick wall.



About 1sojournal

Loves words and language. Dances on paper to her own inner music. Loves to share and keeps several blogs to facilitate that. They can be found here:
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7 Responses to Brick Wall

  1. annell4 says:

    Death In the Middle
    The shadow of the hawk
    Crosses over me

    I saw your blood on the road
    It happened a short time ago
    Your intention was to cross the road
    You had no clue
    The end would come in the middle

    I hope there were no children at home
    A creature unknown
    All alone
    I could not tell
    By the blood
    That was spilled
    The name of your kind
    Or who you were

    I repeated the words I often do
    Released whole and unharmed
    From the cage that held it bound
    Blessed you as you once were
    Your blood wasted
    Spilled on the road

    That is the way it often happens
    On the way to something else
    Death steps in and
    Changes your plans

    Note: I am away from home, and can’t log into my blog….so I am posting the piece here.

    Annell, you have to know I like this one. Awareness, love, and respect for all of life are pretty high on my list of virtues. And you may post here whenever you like, my friend,



  2. julespaige says:

    Your piece reminds me of the brick remains of an old farm house. The stories of life it held…once.
    All the warring witnessed… or even just what was life then. As hard as it was easy.
    Thank you for your kind words. Yes we all have ‘building blocks’ of special people.

    Jules, one of the reasons I like leaving room for interpretation is right here in your response. And as far as people who are “building blocks”: the poetry circuit seems to be alive with just such individuals. Aren’t we lucky?



  3. michael says:

    I enjoyed this poem Elizabeth, I hear brick and I automatically think of Pink Floyd though LOL

    Michael, did you happen to listen to the music I left on 1sojournal today? That, my friend, is my very favorite guitar solo ever. I used to play a bit, until the arthritis moved into my hands. Imagine my delight when I found a Pink Floyd poster on the door to one of my poetry professors’ office. Nothing else, just the poster.



  4. michael says:

    PS I liked yours as well annell

    Michael, don’t know if you read my response to your comment yesterday, but Annell’s poem, the actions within it, would be pretty high on that dissertation about our absolute need to remember.



  5. Wow, two fantastic poems, yours and Annell’s……Elizabeth, I love the way yours ended, with the faint whispered question….cool! Annell, love the way you released the spirit of the unfortunate animal, saw it as it once was. Beautiful.

    Thank you Sherry, one of the things this poem reminded me of, after I was finished writing it, was the confessional of my Catholic parochial school days. I like to believe that I’ll still be asking questions even at the end of my life, still seeking answers.



  6. I pictured the blood smudged, too. I appreciate the comments, especially your response to Sherry.

    Thanks Brenda. With only ten words, it still amazes me how different our paths are through them. When I have time and energy, I like to respond to the comments…sort of like a conversation, or even a discussion.



  7. michael says:
    kind of a darker response to your word list this time. I am getting frustrated with WP and Yahoo, I am not getting comment t threads and replies again. Some of the time I do not even get notifications of new posts on the blogs I follow, like yours Elizabeth, so I never saw the media so I have no clue about a guitar solo LOL


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