"I am hearing poetry when awake, dreaming poetry when asleep, breathing poetry with each breath, I am living in a poem."

Sunday, October 18, 2015

Stone Bruises


There wasn’t any
toe room on the pulpit
and none of her ribs
were named Adam.

It took talent to fall
from the gravel
of not worthy,
but questioning
snakes and apples
pushed her a little
closer to the fire.


©Susie Clevenger 2015

9 comments :

Kerry O'Connor said...

This is a wonderfully cryptic portrait, and what a great title too.

Other Mary said...

She definately had the deck stacked against her (in HIS version). Nice twist of viewpoint, and you're spot on with your biblical imagery.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Love the title......and the "fall(ing) from the gravel of not worthy".

Outlawyer said...

Being in the gravel is definitely being between a rock and a hard place, and belittled at that--I could not help but think of grovel--as well as gravel. Agh. Hard to be a woman in the old-fashioned view of religion for sure, when one could not find a rib named Adam. Thanks, Susie--for participating in the prompt with this cool poem. k.

brudberg said...

An excellent point of view, for that fall we we always tried to push the blame at anyone except Adam... but now we have an apple a day.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Nicely conceived!

Margaret said...

No toe room on the pulpit... Makes me think it is crowded with blowhards anyway. Very cool, tightly written piece

kaykuala said...

Yes, it is the lure of the forbidden fruit all over again and to be hoodwinked out of paradise! Wonderful write Susie!

Hank

Judy said...

concise, thoughtful, well put together. A definite keeper, and a one-up for Eve, all the way.

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