that tired old swing
could never swagger
my daddy's heights
where that too familiar push
had frozen our evening flames
I never knew when
dusk lay dying
there was no season left to claim
this Autumn downpour,
still swimming in the sea
of dawn;
ingrained in my birthright
I could not hear the
mirror crying
and in his eyes
there was no glass
and not a sliver
of our fine company -
in vacancy withdrawn
these shackles kept my
freedom flying
still I sat
beneath those wings
where even my childlike
feet
could only hang
a little too low
only daddy got it right.
Author notes
Prompt: Pic
A contest entry
- Mental Asylum [INVITE ONLY] by Never Fall in Love.
1750 points, ended June 11, 25 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Mental Asylum [invite only] by Never Fall in Love.
1750 points, ended June 25, 7 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Critical Review Desired
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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This is haunting .. simply just.
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whoa...
chillingly descriptive and real; this cuts swiftly thru layers of over-practiced pretense to strike at the heart.
Stealthly crafted, it creeps up on you like the silent pendulum's swing.
bravo, bravo, N.C. Kressy
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that was an incredible take on the picture. i have goosebumps.
incredible.
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you got a pretty cool pic prompt... that is one potentially satisfyingly dark scene! Let's see what you did with it... now, it is not your writing that is intriguing, but trying to figure out how your brain works... (and hopefully that is where your words are coming from- how your brain works, if not, you are a good craftsman... but that is less satisfying) So, I was thinking boy/girl, and you saw father/daughter... so, the "what-on-earth-is-he-talking-about" aspect is strong in this poem, and the question there is always, "is it worth unraveling?" Somehow you entice the reader, making it worth lingering over, and it is the lingering that endears a reader to a piece or a poet, or to a mind...
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This is a hard write; there is a sense of abandonment- emotional or otherwise - and I am reminded that few men understand how important fathers are.
wherever you meant to go this is where you brought me.
well done.
Ken
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Memiors==>memoirs
"I could not hear my
mirror crying"
I think you've used too many 'my's by now...or I guess I just don't like the instance of 'my' here. Why not "the mirror"?
;
Jessica
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