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Rap, Rapping at the Door
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By Quentin Clingerman
Other Poems by Quentin Clingerman


Rap,  Rapping at the Door


Flat, flat residing longitudinally on the floor
There's a rap, rap, rapping at my door
Icicles stab me along my spine
Can't quite get it all in line

Man-sized organ plays its tune
Must be over by half-past noon
Melting icicles along my back
Where's that monster going with his sack?

Man-sized organ spews its guts
Everyone around me is going nuts
Still subsiding on this marble floor
Still the rap, rap, rapping at my door

Heat and cold are all aglow
Sensations follow which I cannot show
Melting icicles around my head
Why can't I just lie on a bed?

Flat, flat upon this tiled floor
Why can't someone open the door?

Why can't someone open the door?

Rap, Rapping at the door (c)2002 Quentin Clingerman

Author's note: Inspired by some recent rap poetry I heard.

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Submitted: Tuesday, June 11, 2002

Last Updated: Sunday, June 8, 2008

About the Poet
I am a retired educator. Now 85 years of age. I live in Maryland. I am the father of three ladies and thirteen grandchildren. Four grandchildren now married. I have two great grandsons, Koi Jon and Quinn Manu and a great granddaughter,Sephira Jade. Poems are an expression of how I think and feel. Variety in either case! I am the founder of WordChimes.com WC originated in February, 2000.

Other Poems by Quentin Clingerman

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