Thursday, 6 March 2008

Daily Challenge: Touch

Today's challenge is a poem to do with 'touch'.

gloves

there was something
final
about slipping that
downy
fleshy
chilling
glove over my hand
the inside so
cold
it felt still damp with
blood

6 comments:

Jim Murdoch said...

Synaesthesia


I hurt
in orange, yellow
purple and red


acupuncture
feels
like a rainbow


and love
is the brightest white
I've ever seen.




Synaesthesia is a neurological condition in which one sense is experienced through the perception of another sense.

Stella said...

sand between my toes
fragments of unmelted glass
why am I barefoot?

machinehuman said...

All this challenges
are really touching
are really boring
like if it was only
thermoplastic that will abide rough use and great heat
for our rotten valves
and lost souls

Like anybody else
who could withdraw the curtain
some kind of devastating fever
of a non English english speaker
who just pick out some fast
and random poor words
to blemish and pollute and maculate
northern few verses that wont last

Tamara said...

Have you deserted your blog, Unskilled Poet? Your loyal readers miss your creative work and challenges!

The Unskilled Poet said...

Eek! I just didn't notice the time slipping by me - sorry! I'll put up a new challenge now :)

'soulless' said...

My first time here, and now just posting feedback on your post. ;) The mystery is intoxicating. Aside from my imagining of a serial killer on the loose, the image of the coroner in uniform comes to mind.

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