My Desk

 

 

A desk is just a desk

But this one is mine

It bears the scars

Of scratched out words

And a hint of the divine

 

Stained with black ink

And salted with hard tears

It becomes the womb

Of the things I think

And the things I fear

 

The worn and wooden

Companion for years

Bears all the good

And all the bad of

The words that do appear

 

The pictures that sit

Upon its shelf

The images of family

And good friends

Are my greatest wealth

 

Its age is so apparent

The blemishes so rife

But here I sat

And racked my brain

To bring my words to life

 

To all it is just a desk

And really nothing more

But to me it is special

For it is here that

I wrote my life’s score

 

 

 

Comments
18 Responses to “My Desk”
  1. This is so true! I can really relate and you’ve captured the essence of a desk, or of a place where you create, where you spend a lot of time thinking, and doing. Lovely and beautifully written.
    Cheers!
    Francisco

  2. beth says:

    beautiful. you sit and create at the shrine of your life

  3. jonicaggiano says:

    This is gorgeous work Brad. You describe your creative space so well. Where we bare our raw feelings out for others to like or not. We can’t stop ourselves.

    “Stained with black ink
    And salted with hard tears
    It becomes the womb
    Of the things I think
    And the things I fear”

    I simply love these lines. Take the best of care sending you love, hugs and sunshine. ❤️💕🤗🌞 Joni

  4. Jim Borden says:

    you just mentioned “Anthropomorphism” yesterday; this comes pretty close, I’d say…

  5. Michael Milonopoulos says:

    I really enjoyed reading this! Genuine words my friend

  6. kristianw84 says:

    This is so beautiful, Brad!! Love, love, love this one!! 😍😍

  7. petespringerauthor says:

    This is excellent. I like the notion of seeing a desk as more than just a piece of furniture.

  8. Well, many a time a non sentient object finds no meaning, like anything in the world, it gets replaced with a lesser value then sentient. But certain objects can be very dear to us, so much so it carries our essence even when we are gone, such is a magic of possessions which fail to die. No one can describe a desk as wonderfully as you Brad 🙂

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