Within the roamed of moaned
the gutter thief.
the wonderful alone
the stone the little boy picked
up and marvelled at, the shine
that stitched along the cracks
the glitter in the seams
and smashed against the wall
with quick spark
ignited in the humid air,
let fly with youthful aim
a strike against the world
of fierce confusing color,
nor was that all.
How could it be?
the despised lethargy
that caused roam to moan,
the depressing purple people
of long snout who had too long done without,
the counted cost of cork without a name,
the flung bottle, long toothed in the bright
sun of morning, roam questioned, a plea,
too tall the freaking world and splayed
the gimpky printer's lathe. I know not
what it said and roamed alone again,
if not touche then what a little later on
leaning counter clockwise in the not matter
of the childrens phrase he found a crooked stick
along the wall, roaming outside the slaking hall,
albeit not with you at all but alone
biting on a basketball, swirling colors
to fit you. And banged it on the head of an old dog
who looked at him with hurt, yet followed on,
and woe the truth of love he knew not what about,
but not alone, but roam, still
through moping Automobile
to Grandfather's still with stick
and basketball and friend,
and sits quietly listening to the old men
talk awhile.
Author notes
Written September 16th, 2003
In a list
A contest entry
- I'm bored by NoUseForAName.
300 points, ended September 23, 2007, 9 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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Some wonderful word play in this... love the way you work with sounds....
al -
this one? -
Makes me think of my own childhood. I used to like to listen the the old men talking- their conversations were more interesting to me than the women's.
Also makes me think of my own boys. They are like this in so many ways. I guess boys never change.
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the words have their own wistful song. their rhythm moves me along in the same erratic way the boy ambles along. loved this
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This is so awesome... excellent read. I liked it! I don't think I can say anything that these others commentors haven't already said...
Keep writing!
Kate
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this was about a boy yho didn't know any better..
Until one day he sat and listened to his elders.
Yvonne
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You are a minstrel of modern times...I have to say I admire all of your works, even if I am in no mental state of mind to understand them. It seems I am a child lost in a world of shadows and illusions. (See, I told you that I couldn't understand the premise of this poem.) I need to sleep now...but am glad I have been visited by you, dear.
Many blessings,
Raven Aurora
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This is how i've been feeling...ug
h ugh So, what do you do with it ?
Some days i'm the windshield, some days i'm the bug... :-)
Awesome poem,
~ Wendy
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poor doggy.....
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oh, yeh and Bravo, Lute. This one is brilliant stuff. Loved how you played with sound in the first four lines. Wonderful spinning magic.
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ack. i always feel evil when i see that a piece has so many views and so many comments. yesterday, one of mine went through 27 views before i had ONE! i guess the evil feelings come when i'm tempted to breeze through, as i can sometimes be a lazy reader. maybe stuck out of habit more than interest. ah! but it goes, it goes.
i'm stuck thinking about boredom and how children don't know how to entertain themselves without the benefits of technology anymore. hrm. i'm sure i'm off on your intended meaning, but that's what i have taken. idle hands are dangerous hands! i don't remember the phrase exactly, but it is something like that.
hmmmmmm.
or maybe i'm just getting a summer moment. where the entire atmosphere is kind of hazed over. glazed over. and everyone seems to go in slow motion. hanging onto hope for a dry tomorrow. where every single action seems aggravated. hmmmmm.
i found it interesting to note the detail you allowed the stone in your first stanza. and then compared to the density explored in your second! somehow, it works. though at times it is a bit much to take in at once.
maybe i'll return. -
How could it be?
I feel dizzy after reading this,
out of breath...
anyway, I think I am going to read it again...:)
Wonderful. Thank you, Maria
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