Charlotte Ballard


A Hundred Pounds Of Clay - Poem by Charlotte Ballard

A hundred pounds
Of clay went
Into the first wound
Fired by the jagged
Seams of polite society.
Thin excuses over thick
Slices of etiquette
Dictated by a dead queen
Who never asked me
To tea. I don't think.
I never checked my
Social calendar for
Curled up messages dipped
In coffee full of creamy
Crap-ful of nothing
Important, there I
Bleed. Dare I?
On the rug of more
Important things than
One dog's tears.
Two paws dig deep
To bury nothing much
Except my pride as
I dip my bone in
Again, and sip it
Dry. The ceramic
Breaks under a push
And prod of skinny
Feet and I tap my
Flesh to see if the seal
Holds.


Comments about A Hundred Pounds Of Clay by Charlotte Ballard

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Monday, September 12, 2005

Poem Edited: Sunday, November 10, 2013


Famous Poems

  1. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  5. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  6. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  7. Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  8. Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
    Mary Elizabeth Frye
  9. Television
    Roald Dahl
  10. I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
    Pablo Neruda
[Report Error]