Chamber Poems - Poems about Chamber

My Hearts Chamber

Red ink 
bleeds 
through 
tissue walls

each ventricle 
a room 
I've carved
by beating.

Chambers of the Mind

In chambers of the mind, we store each day,
Each lesson wrapped in wonder, fear, or joy.
What matters most will never fade away.

The smell of chalk, the light at morning's ray,
First bicycle, first book, beloved toy
In chambers of the mind, we store each day.

Not facts alone, but how they came to stay:
The teacher's smile, the moment

Chamber of Becoming

We laid our breath
in the cold dish of morning
not to warm it,
but to watch it vanish.
The way ghosts do.

You struck the match inside me
with a tremor,
like forgiveness
forgot to be kind.

I was not born for light.
I was spilled
like ink across your undone name,
every letter twitching
like a fish on the wrong side of water.

You came in with

Echo in deaf ears

Lost deep in an echo chamber~
where I talked and my eardrums beat ceaselessly,
ricocheting voices of ghosts masked in agony,
tiptoeing faintly,
their feet blurred by the hallucinations roaming the night.

The emptiness copied the echo of my voice
and sent it far into the dark night~
where some owls were howling and some birds were bedding their young—
but they all

Gass Chamber

the bones are the first to know,
they hum a low dirge,
like a bass line in a dying bar,
deep under the skin’s slow retreat.

blood stumbles in the corridors,
loses its way in the veins,
tries to remember where it used to go.
the heart?
it forgets the beat,
like a drunk forgetting the name
of the woman he once begged for.

lungs collapse

Echo Chamber

     whispers faint traverse

     cobblestones… a continent... 
      
        echoing blood-red

Bedlam of the Chamber

The chaos in my heart,  
The turbulence within my chamber,  
A sea in tempestuous rage,  
A sudden, rapid turning of the pages of a book,  
An uproar gnawing at my mind—  
Tranquil, I still seek to find.

I walk into the embrace of the day,  
I walk into the loveliness

The Echo Chamber

So, the glistening aim noticeably passes by,
So, the dangerous motion formidably goes by,
So, the unknown one remains unknown for the time being,
So, one is ahead of the petty singing. 

The one and only is good-natured and well-behaved,
He is favoured and well-blessed.
Though the great Guide is sacrificed, done and dusted,
The honest being is fit, fine, and

Chamber

Dark fantasies ride glistening moonbeams through my chamber window.
They dance their strange ballet on cobwebs in the flickering candlelight,
before they abide among the dusty tomes.
The tapestries strain to muffle the sound of my breathing,
and the frantic scratching of my quill across the dry parchment.
The moon slowly retreats behind thick clouds,
and the moonbeams are pierced by

Madam Kalla

Madam Kalla was a witch
She was tall and slim
Lived unnoticed, inch by inch
In an old house in Tallinn
She lived at Vana-Viru, 10
Nearby the little square
Ladies with their gentlemen
Stroll around here and there
Madam Kalla understood
Their language very well
Never spoke it, though she could
But she didn't want to tell
I remember the long table
Chandeliers and candle light
Bob Sapozhnin’s

chamber

locked without a key 
my heart is a love chamber 
closed for some repair

The Empty Room

The echo location                                                    

In the chamber of the soul, where silences gather

In the chamber of the soul, where silences gather,
I dwell as a hermit in the city of foam,
Where the world seems like a faded illusion,
I wrap myself in thoughts, like a tree in its closed bark.
Through my veins flows the blood of the unseen,
Heroes of solitude, bearers of sharp shields,
Warriors in the shadow of the

In the chamber of silence where souls converge

In the chamber of silence where souls converge,
Masks lie in wait, the nocturnal guardians of our being.
Adorned with grimaces and velvet smiles,
They are armors against the unknown arrows of the estranged world.
Oh, how they descend like curtains over our fragility,
Sitting so carefully upon the shoulders of pleasure, the cloth of outward beauty.
We learn to parade

Inner Chamber

Sanctum
Within the soul
Bedchamber once hidden
Curtain torn from top to bottom
Heaven

Date: 02/02/2024
Pick-A-Title, Vol. 41 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh

• Short Chamber Poems
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