There is a crazy man in my poems
he climbs down from the window sash
he wears red suspenders,
he thinks tangle should tingle.
He is annoyed that the words
spill rather than tag along.
He doesn’t stand straight
but leans and hops about,
he wants to know why I did that for, he tends
to shout
and misplaces words
so that I am forced to hunt them down,
he explains,
that the fence
should end precisely
at right angles to the perpendicular
not trail off into indistinct mist
like a chinese painting
He says,
If a person stands up, they should sit down,
that the bridge has thirty six pillars to the mile,
that you cannot make a word smile.
that a will always equal b
when then the levee leaks
and that mountain peaks recede
exactly according to your departing speed.
I do not like him.
he impedes my startled ineptitude,
my scattered wits--
if everything were to fit,
there would be no use for me at all.
In a list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
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I LOVED THIS!
You know it and you say it. With or without this troublesome little busy body embodied in introduction, body and conclusion ...
So, Poet: what if ... he fires you? Would you introduce me to him as eager substitute for Lute?
Say YES! I will sack my Muse(s) IMMEDIATELY!
Love
Myra
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Hello again. I forgot to comment on the artwork. The lines are clearly contrasting. Well suited to the poem. Do they both have a chip on their shoulder or are they sharing this one?
-df- -
The crazy man is hopping now,
he sees the levee leaking,
nothing fits the mountain peaks,
his scattered wits receding,
he does not like to end precisely
in the mist, ineptitude -for him-
one pillar short, no use at all.
-df-
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Thank you for entering.
Good luck in the contest. -
he's a stubborn kinda fella huh?? lololol
this was fun to read on my short little break in work...
it's got that inner child thing going on, with little hints of then and now and tomorrow stuff
I be liking this one Mistah Lute
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I did a she piece myself, just yesterday.
Love the contrasts in this.
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mine wears green suspenders
must be the bad good twin of the one you see
he doesn't climbs my walls
instead he sits on the floor
eyes me with an empty gaze
and forces me fall from the ceiling
every time he looks down
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I had to remind myself that suspenders means something a little different in American
Love it. -
You see him too?
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This is my new Favorite Lute Poem, however, it appears to be about writing. Which is vurrrrrrry bad/good.
Good luck in the contest.
Lisa
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This is, metaphorically speaking, a good contrast between right and left brain thinking . . . not 'critical thinking' which some might believe as it involves both creative and analytical thinking.
So, what to do about the old chap? Beats me . . .
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