"No Room For Comfort" is a poem about my home. In it i describe how my neighbor that resides above me I consider a thorn in my side, because she constantly walk on the bare floors anywhere from 3:00 am to 6:00 am in the morning which is usually a time I cannot sleep because she is up walking around in her high heels. I describe the features of my home from myself: "icon on your chest," to the drapes: " Cotton Moire, flowers with leaves, and her high heels: wooden sticks on stilts.
Sometimes your ceiling head
Vibrating cause my ear to quiver
As neighbor’s feet syncopate
Her feet as if on wooden stilts,
and sounds like the beat of a drum
Nighttime, noontime, early dawn
This hammering,
No Room For Comfort
A silver coat across your back
A tiny chest: a treasure
Some violets in ceramic ware
And fixtures to your floor
Your Cotton Moiré I stitched long
And lovelier the window pane
The blues on greens are beautiful
To eyes that chose to see
Rhododendron in a patch of leaves
Scenic is the view
I too an icon on your chest
A fixture in the scene
A tiny chest: a treasure
Some violets in ceramic ware
And fixtures to your floor
Your Cotton Moiré I stitched long
And lovelier the window pane
The blues on greens are beautiful
To eyes that chose to see
Rhododendron in a patch of leaves
Scenic is the view
I too an icon on your chest
A fixture in the scene
Sometimes your ceiling head
Vibrating cause my ear to quiver
As neighbor’s feet syncopate
Her feet as if on wooden stilts,
and sounds like the beat of a drum
Nighttime, noontime, early dawn
This hammering,
Holds me in a wakened state
In you I speak in tongues that call
These foreigners’ restless beasts
I adorned you for my pleasure room
Comfort my endeavor and there is
Never a dull moment within your walls
In you I speak in tongues that call
These foreigners’ restless beasts
I adorned you for my pleasure room
Comfort my endeavor and there is
Never a dull moment within your walls
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