Poem: Imprint

H. Kris Thomas

H. Kris Thomas, Yahoo! Contributor Network
Aug 10, 2010 "Share your voice on Yahoo! websites. Start Here."

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I chisel my name on hard surfaces
Making my imprint
Making myself known
Making the glorious and inglorious bits of myself visible and
Never out of sight

I collect the residue
The misshapen, pliable mass of my being that is left over
After my name is engraved in wood and metal and flesh

My name is outside of me
I know this because I can see it
And I am still standing
Somehow, still breathing
Still counting the tick-tick-tocking
The blurring hours on the faces of old time pieces
Those endless waves of minutes and heavy-sigh-moments
That come in with the tide
And do me a righteous wrong
Mocking my dreams to death

Published by H. Kris Thomas

So Cal resident writing poetry and other things...but mostly poetry. View profile

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15 Comments

William Henry Mills JR3/15/2012
It's a joy to read your work.
Sandy James8/17/2010
Great poem!
Crystal Ray8/17/2010
Thought-provoking poem that is full of deep meaning. I understand this, and I'm very impressed by your choices of words and the combinations you created. Beautiful.
JulieW8/17/2010
beautiful poem, thanks for sharing it...very vivid word usage...thanks for reading my article today
Rodney Wilder8/13/2010
Great poem, Heather. I really like the word choice in this piece.
Kim Smith8/13/2010
Nice work!!!
Angela W. La Fon8/12/2010
You are so talented.
Adam Michael Luebke8/11/2010
Beautiful and lyrical. I especially like the 'name is outside of me' image.
J L Carey Jr8/11/2010
Awesome Poem Heather. "I collect the residue
The misshapen, pliable mass of my being" is just fantastic. I am twittering this. &)
Candice L. Collins8/11/2010
*sigh* such a beautifully sculpted poem, love it!

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