Today's poem comes out of a free write I did after a workshop with the wonderful poet Chris Redmond back in January. He introduced us to the idea of his 'mind palace' and his poem/our improv around our own internal geography inspired me to scribble my own version. I finally got around to looking at it today and turning it into something vaguely resembling poetry.
Internal Geography (after Chris Redmond)
yes, it is cold in here / that’s normal / it hasn’t been switched on for a while / the light turned dim / then off / then against me / it is better this way
I’m sorry about the creaks / you get used to it / just don’t make any sudden movements
this corridor is yours to walk through / take your time / marvel at the paintings / all the ones we scratched ourselves by accident / dragging broken furniture behind us like dead bodies / there are dents in the walls that only wooden corpses make / each tells of a time when I needed cleaning / moving / re-building
this corridor is not yours / it is blocked / it is full up / it is choking / it is not your fault / we all have doors but mine lock themselves at whim / I wouldn’t try to pick them / they bite
sit, please / see how the walls move / that is not deliberate/ if you know how to fix it, please let me know / but the floor, that was built like this / it exists despite the weight we force upon it / it resists footsteps like a confident swimmer / knows when to push back / from here, you can lean back and take in the ceiling / how it judges / how it loves / how low it hangs / without even quite / existing