R.A.D. Stainforth...another beautiful read...
I hate you for being red,
for
strutting your faux wings
like
a backwards goose ―
bow-legged wood underneath
an all-too-erect history,
wings
not wide enough
to
protect, or hide behind.
It
is time.
I
drag you, carpet-groove,
to
the front door, armrest down,
living
room monarch,
out
on the chopping block
like
Mary, Queen of Scots.
tk/November 2012
I love the poem - but I think I'd keep the chair :)
ReplyDeleteNice... love the ending!
ReplyDeleteWoo-hooo, love the poem and the picture! Loaded.
ReplyDeleteIt would grace any room, as would the poem any Slim Volume.
ReplyDeleteI wish I had kept my dad's, but c'est la vie. It was Red too.
ReplyDeleteI love it!
ReplyDeleteThe words go on well with the picture ...amazingly written !!!
ReplyDeletewings not wide enough
ReplyDeleteto protect, or hide behind
Haunting phrase.
Love it! But I too would keep the chair!
ReplyDeleteYou could always reupholster it! but very well said.
ReplyDeleteThink metaphorically, peeps...this one is not about a chair...
ReplyDeleteI love it too:)
ReplyDeleteyes- the chair is just representing someone who needs to be pitched out the door!
ReplyDeleteExcellent Tess! Love the line "strutting your faux wings"
I do love a good metaphor.
ReplyDeleteGreat poem but I like that chair!
ReplyDeleteloving the carpet grooves...and the pressure that build in you words..x
ReplyDeleteThe picture was distracting...removed it...
ReplyDeleteCor! Death to the chair! :)
ReplyDeleteFaux wings!!! I'm thinking a few more of our turkey parts should have been faux. We are still stuffed. Seriously ... your poem is stellar .. love the way your red chair takes on a persona of its own.
ReplyDeleteThis was a fun read... to me at least. It's funny to thing someone would harbor so much animosity towards a chair. Your poem made me smile, and for that I thank you.
ReplyDeleteI have a sneaky feeling we were thinking along the same lines!
ReplyDeleteDeath to chair is right! Fun, fun read Tess!
ReplyDeleteBeautifully expressed...
ReplyDeleteI love it! :-) That chair belongs to a queen of a particular dimension. I hope you found another seat more suitable for you. I mean; it is not easy these days. They are all manufactured. I have one myself, which is 20 years old, not as stylish as yours but wider, in pine and with fabric which I think is made to withstand a fire. Since it is 20 years old I believe mine is the only one left. And therefore I love it. It has got flowers on it. I use the seat when I watch television, which is one or two times a week ... Hihi! :-)
ReplyDeleteWonderfully written, your poem. But you know I insist on rhythm and rhyme. :-)
Love the 'backward goose', Thanks!
ReplyDeletePowerful. And I'd burn that chair and salt the earth it was dragged across.
ReplyDelete:) loved it.. got to love metaphors:)
ReplyDeleteQuite a bit of metaphor in this. Wouldn't want to be this one being dragged out to the curb!! Well penned!
ReplyDeleteYour poem is deliciously enjoyable Tess. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteah ...a family gathering
ReplyDeleteOh no spare the chair! :)
ReplyDeleteI would also like to keep the chair...powerful poem..
ReplyDeleteOh, what fun word play! Love S2 and S3 in particular.
ReplyDeleteI don't see a picture... was understandably confused. Since reading the comments, I think the light has dawned.
ReplyDeleteI'm lost. But I shall be found!
ReplyDeleteMartyrs are tough to live with and need to be banished.
ReplyDeleteSplitting up is so hard to do !
ReplyDeleteI cannot see the chair here, but if the same one that Bee posted about, understand you getting rid of it, though maybe I would keep it in a corner of a guest-room , for sentimental reasons, never mind that it is probably worth a lot of money today. Those slippy, high hard chairs of yesteryear.
ReplyDelete...Fine lines to depict a modern day scenario in a woman's life... Baterred days, i guess...
ReplyDeletePoor ol chair!! Sounds like a husband/wife argument... like in When Harry Met Sally? The wheelwagon coffee table? In the end, the woman always knows... what stays, and what goes.
ReplyDeleteLove the connection between red (for blood) at the beginning, and the chopping block for a bloody head at the end...
You are one tough woman, Tess Kincaid... don't mess!
There comes a time when something must go, and this neatly captures that moment, conveying also the intensity of the determined speaker. I'm glad I am not on the business end of your wrath.
ReplyDeleteI like the notion of a 'backwards goose'! A graphic representation of the animation of the inanimate object.
ReplyDeleteI made the mistake of reading yours before I'd written mine. It mad such a great impression that I had difficulty getting it out of mind, but now I can come back to it and enjoy it with a clear conscience. Thanks twice: the prompt and the poem.
ReplyDeleteMy Mum who is seventy loves her winged arm chair that she can easily get out of and raise her feet on its stool. During Eid, she sits on this chair and we do our traditional salam for forgiveness for a year of wrong doing or for upsetting her in any way.
ReplyDeleteI did not think of this annual ritual in my family when I saw the prompt photo. I saw loneliness, hence my poem.
But reading your poem,Tess, I am reminded to forgive that winged chair for any flaw for it brought us much joy.
I am always moved by RAD's readings but today especially. He conveyed masterfully the mise-en-scene your words crafted. I never saw in my mind once a chair as he spoke.
ReplyDeleteThanks ReBelle ... I wasn't thinking of a chair when I read this ...
DeleteI can soooo relate to this Tess!! When my ex-husband and I divorced there was a recliner chair in the living room in which he always sat and did nothing! I wanted to drag it out to the yard and burn it as a ritual!! :-)
ReplyDeleteDear Tess: Adore this "carpet groove". A very eloquent poem; very tactile and emotive...seems some things just don't want to go...:)
ReplyDeleteUnlike Mary's head, I think the chair is still salvageable. :-)
ReplyDeletenice....love the ending
ReplyDeleteOh that last verse is so clever. Perfect, as always.
ReplyDeleteI am gobsmacked that you could get rid of it, if we are still talking about the red chair from Sears! ;-)
ReplyDeleteThis'll going my top 10 fave Tess and RAD entries. The way he says 'Mary Queen of Scots' and then bows his head.....magic stuff!
ReplyDeleteThanks Helena ... this really is a fine poem and I found it hard to learn ... T.K. has a way with words ...
DeleteThank you for adding magic R.A.D...
Deleteah the end wasn't expected !
ReplyDeleteeloquent, elegant ode to a discard!
ReplyDeleteIt has seen good times! I like the reference to Mary's demise making it an expectation of reality! Nicely Tess!
ReplyDeleteHank
I think I'd keep the chair and move it to a different house. There does come a time to part with things though. I like the Mary Queen of Scots chopping block line. It adds an interesting touch.
ReplyDeleteThank you all, for taking the time to read, and leave a comment. It means so very much to me...
ReplyDeleteI just want to add i just read it again and still love it
ReplyDeleteWell, hell! That's wonderful!
ReplyDelete