"unthreaded" poems - Hello Poetry

This is the ladder---your first steps into the height. There are no apples. There are no angels. There is only broken shadow and socket; a rounded house of milk and voltage. Now, as you unscrew the bulb with fingertips, listen for the sand. It is sand from ancestral beaches were all families of glass have been blown. A beach where dinosaurs are continually struck by lightning. Continue swiveling until the blown-out bulb is free from the ceiling. Come down, but do not look down. Use the eye in each shoe to find the lower rungs. Place the old bulb in with the dish of pears. The new carton of bulbs are close by, sleeping. Unwrap a fresh bulb from its onionskin pajamas and ascend the same ladder previous. Using your musical hand, insert the threaded end up into the unthreaded beginning. Turn gently in the direction of sunrise until snug. Pull the chain, for the light of God's echoing equation will now sing. Squint and descend.

0

Apr 24, 2014

Apr 24, 2014 at 8:13 PM UTC

stephen-lindow

CHANGING A LIGHTBULB after Julio Cortazar

This is the ladder---your first steps into the height. There are no apples. There are no angels. There is only broken shadow and socket; a rounded house of milk and voltage. Now, as you unscrew the bulb with fingertips, listen for the sand. It is sand from ancestral beaches were all families of glass have been blown. A beach where dinosaurs are continually struck by lightning. Continue swiveling until the blown-out bulb is free from the ceiling. Come down, but do not look down. Use the eye in each shoe to find the lower rungs. Place the old bulb in with the dish of pears. The new carton of bulbs are close by, sleeping. Unwrap a fresh bulb from its onionskin pajamas and ascend the same ladder previous. Using your musical hand, insert the threaded end up into the unthreaded beginning. Turn gently in the direction of sunrise until snug. Pull the chain, for the light of God's echoing equation will now sing. Squint and descend.

1

I hung my apron to dry let the wind carry it, cradling cloth with branch claws and dancing legs all the way to hell and back, embroidering glory in each stitched parsley leaf, I unthreaded each with a brittle needle used each thin thread to create my own tapestry.

0

Aug 24, 2020

Aug 24, 2020 at 9:54 AM UTC

KRBanerjee

tapestry

I hung my apron to dry let the wind carry it, cradling cloth with branch claws and dancing legs all the way to hell and back, embroidering glory in each stitched parsley leaf, I unthreaded each with a brittle needle used each thin thread to create my own tapestry.

9

Younger days over, She and I, what tapestry, Innocence loomed.

0

Sep 23, 2013

Sep 23, 2013 at 7:38 PM UTC

ormond

Haiku (unthreaded)

Younger days over, She and I, what tapestry, Innocence loomed.

3

the shutters are kept a jar closed this morning. i will only see out of one eye. my own blue light vibrates, hollows out my greying stomach leaving space to think - - you should’ve reached out but i can’t get my hand past the edge of my bed, so i use my hands instead to harden my molten tongue and soften my clenched cheeks. a sour gap between chin - - belly. rolling a mushy blade of grass between my fingers - - stretching a water bottle - - kicking the end of my bed - - do you feel empty? she said. I said - - like unthreaded needles? like tupperwear unfilled? - - is that empty? you felt like silk disrupted with the crease on your forces and i tried to collect the other day but you weren’t even there it was some other guy i only see you when i buy bags of must i miss the hugs you gave from ear to floor but now you’re cheating on me with yourself and now i’m a zippo without fluid and you’re the first *** packet without a number and without a warning and i'm without - -

0

Dec 16, 2018

Dec 16, 2018 at 5:37 PM UTC

kimizs

- -

the shutters are kept a jar closed this morning. i will only see out of one eye. my own blue light vibrates, hollows out my greying stomach leaving space to think - - you should’ve reached out but i can’t get my hand past the edge of my bed, so i use my hands instead to harden my molten tongue and soften my clenched cheeks. a sour gap between chin - - belly. rolling a mushy blade of grass between my fingers - - stretching a water bottle - - kicking the end of my bed - - do you feel empty? she said. I said - - like unthreaded needles? like tupperwear unfilled? - - is that empty? you felt like silk disrupted with the crease on your forces and i tried to collect the other day but you weren’t even there it was some other guy i only see you when i buy bags of must i miss the hugs you gave from ear to floor but now you’re cheating on me with yourself and now i’m a zippo without fluid and you’re the first *** packet without a number and without a warning and i'm without - -

1

Younger days over, She and I, what tapestry, Innocence loomed.

0

Oct 14, 2012

Oct 14, 2012 at 8:39 PM UTC

ormond

Haiku (unthreaded)

Younger days over, She and I, what tapestry, Innocence loomed.

3

I notice the strings you pull, the ones unbound in a forgotten corner of my soul. A string unthreaded, another one unraveled, one to fill the space between you and I. Thread by thread, somewhere in between moments shared, I became yours.

0

Jun 4, 2025

Jun 4, 2025 at 10:47 PM UTC

Katiemaletta

Strings

I notice the strings you pull, the ones unbound in a forgotten corner of my soul. A string unthreaded, another one unraveled, one to fill the space between you and I. Thread by thread, somewhere in between moments shared, I became yours.

9