POEMS ABOUT DOOR HANDLES

“POEMS ABOUT DOOR HANDLES”, demanded a recent Google search that, happily, turned up this blog. Peter and The Hare are no stranger to Door-Handle promotion on an International scale, and when I thought at how few door [-] handle specific poems there must be out there, I pitied whomever conducted this search.

The Door Handle Poetry Enthusiast’s watering hole must be a very shallow unsatisfying one indeed – perhaps there is, if one is lucky, some kinda shoddily produced photocopied fanzine locally destributed in the village of Spittle-Upon-Wine, specifically for the publication Door Handle Verse, but I doubt it.

I now know my Purpose In Life. Here is a small chapbook’s worth of POEMS ABOUT DOOR HANDLES, for your reading pleasure.

 This poem appears at  Feathertale . First draft below:

POEMS ABOUT DOOR [-] HANDLES

#1
What a curious door to open!
There is no other way to enter…
when you say “knob” it makes me giggle –
a British colloquial term for “Penis”.

#2
silver door handle
why do you cry?
you cry metal filings
and I’m sorry you’re so functional.

#3
When did rabbit holes get modern?
an automatic door
persuaded open by the mind.

#4
An appendage for a door,
for forty dusty years,
the moment you went see-through,
the wrinkly man was impotent.

#5
“How necessary are you?”
said the handle to the door,
“More important than you!”
They pushed and pulled and swore.

#6
Five minutes to Lunch,
in the large dining room –

the door stole both my gloves,
forever worn upon
the handle.

#7
The child in the playroom,
thinks of nothing but escape.

#8
Fetch me the medicine,
it is in the cabinet.
Where is the door handle?
It is in the laundry basket.

#9
The jammed door to the Study,
suggests I rest a while.

#10
The Handle’s Messiah,
is perhaps a Man,
who will never think to enter,
because he has no hands.

#11
Salvador Dalí
entered his bathroom
only to find himself
naked,
as usual.

#12
Ring the doorbell;
I might not answer,
but you might just cure me
of my tinnitus.

#13
An egg and spoon race,
runs the length of the hallway.

The living room’s for living in –
the door opens upon a zombie.

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