It's not a torrent of blessings
or an endless rapture!
Why must it be wrapped in glory?
Effervescent and glowing?
Presented to us
in a paraded ceremony
of complementary patterns,
that kisses away
what we must surely
know by now.
I was once a little boy,
charging up the hill
with my wooden sword.
Trying to catch the dogs
who ran with my sling shot
and my bloody broken heart
between their sharpened teeth.
Drugstore soda jerks who
refuse to wash their hands,
stand by abandoned parking lots
shaking their infected fists
at the lumbering meter maids,
who insist on impounding them
from doing as they please
in this war of words.
Pulling my wagon of rocks
and bottles of bugs
up to the fort,
to see the girls
who share the wine,
they've stolen
from the sacristy
of the private schools
their new fathers
have sent them to.
Burning the bridges
before we crossed them,
to show we can take
the long way around
and still reach
the other side.
Rough and tumble
went the innocents
of days gone by,
fueled by insane wonderment
of all that was good.
No poetry or masterpiece
of silver and gold...
no wise and well placed words
will bring you back to yourself!
Only the deafening howl
and the blackened night
that is cupped by the glow
of the scattered street lamps
will raise the ghost
of a boy's life again.
A contest entry
- 'Top Billing' Poet to my Page - 2nd Annual Contest - Prompt Anything by Florida Sunshine.
525 points, ended August 30, 2008, 28 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Childhood Dreams Are Often The Sweetest by Beatles Girl.
800 points, ended October 2, 31 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 65 of 65
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Wow you've captured the perspective of childhood wonderfully here, now you my friend are a true poet. You arrange words into an array of brilliant pictures easily inside of the reader's mind. Always capturing truth, beauty, sadness, and joy... It is a pleasure to be able to read these!
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One of the nicest poems I think I've read on this site. Thanks for entering! =]
-K -
I really like this. It brought back memories of being little and tramping out to the pond with my older brother to catch frogs and tadpoles in jars, and playing hide and seek in the dark at my neighbor's house. Good times. ^_^
Beautifully written!
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Very deep and interesting. I found this very easy to understand and it kept my attention the entire time. I love your use of imagery throughout the poem.
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The imagery was captivating.
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so vivid my brother
I truly enjoyed this read just what I needed though any of your fine works of art would have done well for me. I feel as if I am there again. thanks for painting again those memories into my mind. a boys life is a wondrous thing. full of adventure and intrigue. Take a bow again brother your poetic mastering once again shines through. Always enjoy my reads of it. Nic
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This is exquisite. The pictures you paint are worth THOUSANDS of words. My eyes can grow distant and see exactly the painting that you are working on, the light brushstrokes softly adding saturation and hue.
Extremely well done. I enjoyed being able to follow you on this journey and hope to find many more along the way.
I'm often rendered speechless by others' work, and this was no exception. -
Whether as boy or man, written with the beautiful soul of a fierce warrior of words, you capture the rough, and still the downy goodness, of the many moments of a life.
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yes a little of keates i must say rang through here, lovley words and a stark way of putting it but so true and many do forget those harsher ways to learn and then go on to make those mistakes over again, this is a timeless piece very effortless and a nice flow undisturbed all the way along,
loved it xxxx
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The title reminds me of Robert Frost, as the body here reminds me of a blend of Henry James, and Amy Lowell, with a touch of John Keats. Yet in all, it is the imagery that drives this poem home, and it is all you Brother. Most well done and artistic vision is here a thrilling read, full of humanity and life.
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your poems flow effortlesly,your choice of words throughout are fantastic, this poem paints such a vivid picture and was a pleasure to read.
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I love this poem! I love your writing style. It is so sophistocated and descriptive! I have a feeling you are the kind of person who is good with words. Good job!
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Just like Pan, we must never ever fully grow up for when you do, this world of ours will forever taint us..in shades of gray and black. Much better to pretend to be an adult and have fun like a kid along the way...
Here's to wearing white socks outside, just because we can
Enjoyed this, thank you!
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soft
i thought that this poem was really really good and extremely soft ,my favourite line with my wooden sword beacuse it reminds me of myself as i have a wooden sword and i play at ruff and tumble games -
Your vocabulary selection stood out to me, as did your wording of the poem. Great work, is all I can say dear poet. Stunning.
ing alone,
Mylee -
again, like ur last poem that i had read, i adore ur word choice
you write amazing works, dudeness!
be proud of this ^.^ seriously
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wow amazing !!
this poem braught into view an underlying issue its an amazing picture of what we see in old films that parents would shelter us form now
my mum told me to read this poem and i think its beautifull the way it depicts the ruffness of the child in contrast with the harshness of the world today is amazing and your right parents of today the society of today only shows what it want us to see -
i REALLY ENJOYED THIS READ, AND IT MADE ME PONDER THE WAY I RAISE MY CHILDREN SOFTLY SOFTLY ALL THE WHILE, IT IS TRUE SOME OF THE MOST VALUABLE LESSONS WERE THE ONES THAT SKINNED KNEESE AND HEARTS LOVELY WRITE THANKS FOR SHARING LITTLEFISHONE
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great piece, thanjkyou for entering and good luck x
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Lowell, thank you for suggesting this one to me. I really like it! Nice write! And let me just say, I wholeheartedly agree on your author notes! Well-written, also! Hey I have one little bug:
"stand by abandon parking lots"....should be abandoned?
I love reading your writes so much!
Loves.
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i have corrected that my sister...thank you so.
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Very, very nice one here. Brought back the images of the heady days of youth. I agree with you that there is entirely too much coddling going on with the young today. Sheltering from all storms leads to the inability to handle any of them.
Going to get my daughters to read this one, they grew able to make mistakes, but they grew up strong and knowing who they are, now they are the sheltering ones...
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wow very nice i loved it thanks for the entry.....
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Delicious
Wow, this is gold on it's own. It just keeps you wanting more and then to read it over again! I love this! It is incredible. The language is mind-blowing and the imagery astounding. Love it!
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Wonderfully delighted
Should have gotten gold. You were robbed man. I don't even have to read what really got gold. Its irrelevant. This is fantastic. So full and powerfully poetic. So you. You shall frame it, yes?
Always knocking my knickers off.
Creatress -
i really enjoyed reading this poem, the flow of it was very enjoyable and i was very into it by the end, although it was long i was hooked, well done on the amazing write.
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This was fun to read. I liked it i liked it alot
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wow so many lessons that are to be learned fill this poem....i really enjoyed reading it and meditating on the words and images....great job :]
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Superb
Aye, 'tis a fine write, as are the author comments. Which reminded me of one I wrote called: 'Puppets'.
Here's a link to it: http://allpoetry.com/poem/2276250
Hope you have a good afternoon. -
A sensation.
In terms of work you have produced before, this is written in a similar vein, a similar style, yet it is so unique in regards to a fresh new moral message. Or maybe I'm trying to say, a fresh new way of presenting a traditional moral message that is all too often overlooked?
There are some great lines in this piece... some of which made me smile, some of which made me do a double take, and I felt quite exposed, even shocked at the way you have so artistically portrayed the concept of harsh reality. But every stanza I read, no mistake - made me think "Yes, that's it exactly."
A sensational take on the personal situations involved with growing up, looking back on the past and learning from your mistakes, conveyed with overwhelming expression.
Well done, Brother!
Jess x
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This is an excellent piece of work. I saw it posted and had to read it. I am so glad I did. Unlike the rest of the poems I've read on here, this one really captured my attention. Great job!
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I did comment on this before, but I still loves it!
I wrote one before- but I added it to AP like tonight- Called Boy's Journey.
Reckon you are well euipped to check it out...
Still love this poem! The authors notes. All of it!
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I liked this {: amazing write. I really like this, keep up the great work.
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wow. um. i really like this.
im familiar with a few of your poems and theyre always a pleasant break from some of the... how should i put this... crap thats floating around on this site.
the one thing that seemed a little out of place was the "burning our bridges" stanza. looking back, after reading your authors notes, it made perfect sense, but the idea seemed to come out of nowhere. you could have used another stanza as a means of introducing the concept somehow.
i just reread my comment and i sound very negative... i dont mean to sound that way though - i genuinely enjoyed this poem... flawless idea, and well executed.
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I like this alot. It seems that many kids today would rather have their imagination handed to them in a video game or a music video than go out and make their own good time.
Do I sound like a grumpy old fart? I am.
Mike
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The imagery and words in this poem are crafted and executed as beautifully as the many others I've read before. To recall the events of childhood is oh so cherished and to continue living with a child's outlook is even more important. Childhood wasn't always perfect but no matter what age you are you'll always have the puddles to jump in when you need to take the edge off...even if you have to make your own puddle with mom's garden hose.
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Brilliant!!!
This is a wonderful, stunningly real peak into a boys life, with a load of bittersweet memories packed neatly between the bugs and rocks bouncing along in that wee wagon rolling obediantly up the hill at the heels of their master... Great work, Poet!!! Peace Always, Cyn
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I like this piece a lot. I've recently started reading a book called "The Case Against Adolescence" which argues that much of the problems of today's youth is that we keep them young by freeing them of responsibilities and treating them like kids. It's a fascinating book and it provides compelling arguments. Your poem reminded me of the book as I think the sentiment might be shared. If children are always coddled, they never learn to deal with the world, and in fact live with an illusion of a utopian existence, which does not give them the tools to face life as it really is, and to live, learn and grow as a person.
Nice write!!
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Grass roots stuff...!
Excellent write Lowell melancholic and soulfull, you're right, you cant buy back innocense, and all the cleverest words in the world don't cut it either...that last stanza is really where it's at brother, the trick is trying to stay there, you will, cuz you're in touch with your spirit, the spirit of the road...really enjoyed this little sojourn down the backroads of days gone by...I can't decide which part I like best, but "burning the bridges, before we crossed them, to show we can take, the long way round, and still make it to the other side..." Pheww...I'm gettin' goose bumps man...thanks for the memory!
your brother
John
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Very good! I enjoyed the imagery in this very much. The wonderment of childhood is full of many hard life lessons, but the innocence of that age allows us to not forget so much as move on to the next joyful moment. I think when we are young, we live in the "now" which is something I think we should all do even as adults. I liked your authors note as much as the poem! Pam
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very great write i really like this one. very good way to explain a boys childhood i really liked this hon!keep on penning!
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to see the girls
who share the wine,
they have stolen
from the sacristy
of the private schools
their new fathers
have sent them to.
Loving that part.
The whole poem was good as far as imagery goes...
And also loved (for some reason) that your authors notes resembled some kinda poem themselves.
Yeah, a masterpiece -
i enjoyed this poem...the visual effects were very good there was a painting of emotions throughout... i also enjoyed the way you went back and forth between the past and the present, of sorts. the little boy, to the today issues. it was emotional and full of life. i liked the plays on words, "war of words" etc. very nice usage of poetic devices here. nicely penned!
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There is the child in all of us... yearning to return to a world of innocences and wonderment. ~ I am one of 7 children. When I was born, I was the only girl among 4 boys... I played with my brothers with the same joy of 'adventure'.
I felt the same regarding your poetry... it isn't about the trophies... it is about being a part of you... too many people get wrapped up and lose sight of the 'simple joy.'
I really enjoyed your poem a great deal ~ It was a welcome pleasure to read and review your work!
Best of luck to you,
Florida Sunshine
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wow
I really like this. It is sort of surreal. I really like this part: "Burning the bridges
before we crossed them,
to show we can take
the long way around
and still reach
the other side."
I am impressed with your ability! I look forwad to seeing more of your work!
Bravo! And write on 'cause you rock!
The Famous Reese Bailey
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Very Good!
"Burning the bridges
before we crossed them,
to show we can take
the long way around
and still reach
the other side." - I like this stanza.
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Well Lowell...the overall effect this piece had on me was more powerful than most of your other pieces. As always with you, I am left with my mind headed in several different directions as I contemplate the message behind this poem. For me...it gave a sense of lost innocence that captured me and kept me from losing interest.
The words you've chosen in two of the stanzas in particular appealed to me. For lack of a better word, they were both haunting and enchanting.
"trying to catch the dogs
who ran with my slingshot
and my bloody broken heart
between their sharpened teeth."
What a heartrending, vivid (if somewhat macabre) image this conjured up for me...
The last stanza was my favorite...sort of tumbling me along to the inevitable ending. Even though it felt complete, this time I was left wanting more. Well done.
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Wonderful Write :)
Hats of to you my friend. This is an incredible write. So much nostalgia and memory flows through the mind as one reads this. From a personal view i do struggle to find anything uplifting about my childhood and the lessons i learnt were proabably harsh compared to some and yet not as harsh as others i have read on this site. But in your words i did find glimmers of smiles and happiness in my young days albeit they were mostly when i was alone with my own thoughts and free from the oppressive rule i was under at the time. I think im still charging up the hill with my wooden sword as you so thoughtfully wrote.
As for the stanza :-
Burning the bridges
before we crossed them,
to show we can take
the long way around
and still reach
the other side.
This is almost written in stone, a must do thing for any kid growing up, its only as we get older and wiser that we look for easier ways to do things, as children this was the recipe for adventure, the shiny glint in mischievous eyes.
Its true also that our early days are not remembered as sparkling or blissful because with experience comes downfalls. Its the first steps we learn to take on how to pick ourselves up when things go wrong, steps whose imprints we walk in thoughout our lives, the blueprints of our essence.
I thank you for a thouroughly well written and thought provoking piece my friend , it is outstanding
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amazing.
i would only like to point out that i think our experiences as children shape who we are, maybe we were pure, but that's not 'us', every child is born like that, it's not part of our identity. How we get through our experiences and how we deal with them - that is who we are.
So i don't think you can refer to the child you as the real you. Throughout life you are constantly finding out about yourself, up until you die.
Then when you die, people close to you, will write just who you were, on your epitaph. Until that point, you is an unfinished story my friend.
and why not put our childhood on a pedestal of silver and glory? I for example treasure everything about my childhood, it wasn't always bright, no childhood is (even though our brain remembers only the good things), but it made me who i am, and i love the people i got to know, talk to and touch. damn straight I'm going to put my childhood in a golden frame for a rainy day!
This poem is dark, not that i don't like it, i love it.
But i came to believe the poetry we write should capture more light, we must put a frame on this darkness, show it in a different light.
Don't let regret or sorrow touch atavism!
But who am i to tell you how and what to write about? :L
Amazing poem my friend, i hope you don't find my feedback in any way discouraging but merely see it as a feedback from a devoted reader ^^
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Greatness!!! This points out so many childhood escenses, it is outstanding! Another great peom from my Master (and Guiding Light*!!)
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Lowell...this is another great poem!
The images of childhood sure come alive as I read this. I especially enjoyed the part of pulling the wagon of rocks up the hill. I thank you for writing this one...you are the best!!
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"Burning the bridges
before we crossed them,
to show we can take
the long way around
and still reach
the other side."
Fucking magnificent poetry. Seriously Poe, those are some chops you got there. You haven't lost it. Continually knocking me out of my knickers.
& 
Creatressssss
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Very true!
I found your notes most illuminating on the subject of the poem. Very well done!
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very very amazing. I heart it! My favorite lines were:
Pulling my wagon of rocks
and bottles of bugs
up to the fort,
to see the girls
who share the wine,
they have stolen
from the sacristy
of the private schools
their new fathers
have sent them to.
That was just freaking awesome! Once again, great job. I love the way you write. ^.^
Slip
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Right??? Who said life should be sparkily pink princess dust? From a ladies perspective
This is amazing, for me- you had me at...
"I was once a little boy,
charging up the hill
with my wooden sword.
Trying to catch the dogs
who ran with my sling shot
and my bloody broken heart
between their sharpened teeth."
Man, i could so see you... even now- what a beautiful portrayal of truth and life. You are always taking it one step further and thus one level deeper!
"Pulling my wagon of rocks
and bottles of bugs
up to the fort,
to see the girls
who share the wine,
they have stolen
from the sacristy
of the private schools
their new fathers
have sent them to."
Here, you have an amazing talent at painting the currupted innocence that makes growing up so real, so forming, and so dysfunctionally normal!
And this stanza here...
"Burning the bridges
before we crossed them,
to show we can take
the long way around
and still reach
the other side."
Is why I think we get along so well. Beating our path through life, instead of taking the interstate.
And your ending- prolific!!!
"no wise and well put words,
will bring you back to yourself.
Only the deafening howl
and the blackened night"
All I can say, Liam, is Congratulations! A work of art indeed, but a philosophical scripture as well. Keep doing what you do, love! You freaking ROCK!!!
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I love this idea, Lowell! Really quite wonderful to think of all the lessons taught in childhood, and hopefully have learned from...although I confess I think I'll always have to hear certain things repeatedly before I seem to get them! Thanks for the smile from this poem! faith
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By George! I think you've got it! This a a wonderful poem that speaks to all of us over a certain age.
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excellent write, a story of making use of the lessons life hands us, rather than complaining of the hardships we encounter. We all go through similar lessons, the wise truly learn from them and appreciate them...the rest just go about their lives and miss the real lessons.
Well done.
Rory
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The Good 'Ol Days...
When I was reading this, I was reminded of MY youth, which was not so long ago, but...I was thinking the ideas in your Author's Notes before I even got to them...I learned so much, "back in the day" that came in the form of wrongness, or blackness, or darkness...And vice versa.
To put it Poetically, is making us all look back, and re-evaluate how we did. Did we REALLY learn what we were supposed to? Even though the lesson came 15 years ago, you can STILL learn from it. And, it's a nice reminder, of how it is TODAY also...The only thing different today, than 15 years ago, is the date...We are still the same person, we're still learning, we're still growing...
So strong Lowell...The words were permeated with a confidence that is unrivaled.
"Burning the bridges
before we crossed them,
to show we can take
the long way around
and still reach
the other side."
That was my favorite stanza right there...I did that a lot when I was growing up, LOL.
"No poetry or masterpiece
of silver and gold...
no wise and well put words,
will bring you back to yourself."
This was well said also.
I charged uphill with a wooden sword also
Keep it up brother, don't ever stop.
BLESSINGS LOWELL,
BRANDON
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Good poem
I don't know if anyone wants a grammar and spelling type critique, but this poem has merrit and I just cannot resist asking if LIFES should not be LIVES, and if there is any such word as STOLED. In the last line, I think you wanted to say BOY'S. There are a couple of other questionable words that I am sure you will consider when you edit.
The nice thing about the life of a boy is that it is never lost. Few men walk around in old age without the boy who dwells within.
You deserve some bunnies...
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OUT STANDING
for through the eyes of a child we see what needs to be seen and the lessons come with the bitter sweet reality...sugar coated are not it all soon melts in the afternoon sun...we have a chose always but must time see it to late...you my brother are amazing and i simply adore you
this poetry site is blessed to have a poet such as you
your gypsy always
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Ah! The University of Hard Knocks
It seems as though I have been there. My friend, you have taken me back there for a visit in my mind through these wonderful words of experience. It’s funny how we do learn during our youth and not even realize we are being taught. Then when we are older, we DO remember a lesson learned. Our youth forms who we will be in the future, and your poem brought this out very well.
Thanks Lowell, I enjoyed the trip back in time to that grand and glorious University to which everyone attends, but it seems no one ever attains a diploma.
May you be blessed my friend,
Ron
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my friend,
your comments are so on the money,
you are wise,
not getting a diploma was part of the course...
because they said it would be presented,
not receiving it was yet another lesson.
Nothing to show others of our perpetual motion
but experience and a few more lines on our faces.
God bless,
LOWELL
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