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This Poem Doesn't Have a Title

January 29, 2013
By Bookish SILVER, Mustang, Oklahoma
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Bookish SILVER, Mustang, Oklahoma
6 articles 0 photos 12 comments
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Like when you wake up for no reason
look around
and there’s an ominous sweater draped over the chair.

The thing that makes you hate that girl
even though she volunteers
and is perfectly nice
to your mother.

That feeling you got
the first time you saw a cheese grater.

That time you stared at the lady on the bus
the one that was clutching
the sandwich
and you knew her
but she was a stranger.

When the hairs on your arm stand up
and go on watch duty
because you felt a draft
but your house isn’t drafty.

Future cousins
that haven’t been born
or thought of yet.

Some things don’t have titles.
Neither does my poem.

© Michael H., Mildford, CT

The author's comments:
Once when I was very young and my mother and grandmother were cooking, and asked me to grate cheese. I got these weird feeling when they showed me the cheese grater, like it was some medieval torture device. This poem is inspired by that feeling.
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JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 1 comment.

GreekGoddess BRONZE said...
on Feb. 6 2013 at 7:22 pm
GreekGoddess BRONZE, Andover, Connecticut
3 articles 0 photos 182 comments

Favorite Quote:
"The unprepared rebel dies in the fire."<br /> ~unknown

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I liked it. It was interseting, and defintly unquie. I understood what feeling you were talking about up untill the frist time you saw a cheese grater. That one didn't quite fit the rest of the feeling. I also think that the tital would be better as no name or something, though then I guess the last line couldn't be there.