Walk up to the mall.
Many of us are waiting there.
Scan along the many stalls
And choose us by the label.
If you find a fancy one
Upon a flimsy whim,
Take care to keep another spare
In case you're done too soon.
Walk about and show us off
And call us pretty names.
Wipe a tear, and then some phlegm,
For that's all the value in us.
When we're worn and over used
And time finally catches up,
When we're soaked in sweat and tear,
Neglected and abused,
Walk up once more, to the mall
And scan the fancy stalls.
Many of us are hangin there
In case you need a spare.
Comments
Hello William,
a very interesting and clever poem. Unique as well. I've never read a poem form the viewpoint of tissue paper before! I usually quote back my favorite lines, but in this case I would be quoting the whole poem.
always, Cat
Thank you!
Thanks so much. This poem personally means a lot to me. The fact that you liked it makes me feel much better.
Again, I'll say Thank you! :)
Your poem ignites the human mind... I for one
Your Tissue poem
Ignites the human mind...
I for one
Could never have thought
Of bringing to life
Something as much as a toilet paper
Wow now you open my mind,
To the mundaneness of life,
As much as visits to malls,
Where I have been a million times across the globe
.Wait till I narrate a scene at a coffee stall in Amsterdam
And A lady who paid a thousand dollars,
For a guy to lead her
To the exit, who came just about
When she was about to go to heaven
It relieved her sons agony,
Who awaited mute,
At the Entrance
Nice poem-ment :D
Yeah. I know. I really didn't expect this response, that the use of mundane "tissue" will surprise people. Thanks for the compliment.
Actually, come to think of it, lots of things we delight in can be looked at (cynically) in the light of mundane-ness, if I should put it that way.
I would love to see the piece on the coffee stall in Amsterdam. :D
i was using
mundanity ....the spell check kept on bouncing it back at me
Hence the mundane- ness
Originality is spice of life
and Do u agree
causticity is like red chillies
Fancy stalls in a mall?
Fancy stalls in a mall? Surely you jest? Try going here. Can you imagine the gold, marble, granite in these johns?
http://media.cleveland.com/musicdance_impact/photo/severance-hall-lobby…
(home of the world-renown Cleveland Orchestra)
Love the poem, Mr. St. George, I very much like weirdly-wired poets. I remember writing a poem about a port-a-potty once. Probably went down the drain.
Perfecto title!
~A
Well...
The Mall i was talking about (here in Ghana) is quite fancy. Not like in the link though!
(And I'll have to admit, I badly needed it to rhyme :D)
Like Rosi...
...I'm checking this one out as the lead in to the other poem. I may have already said this, but this is bloody depressing. There is a certain hopelessness involved that brings a frown. However, I'm not sure I see the connection between the two poems. I'm sure I'm looking right past it, but I honestly don't see it.
Still, the language is rich and evocative.
wesley
Hi Rosi
The connection between the two poems really is this: Both are coming from the same event. Both talk about the loss of trust in someone you loved and thought loved you too.
Besides that, it may be pretty hard to see. I can see it because...I wrote it! lol Sorry for the confusion, and I keep getting amazed at the response. Thank you!