Child, tear your eyes
from the distances of windows
turn them to the page
where algebra shouts of necessity
and geometry fashions
the minds of great men
for to succeed in life
without mathematical capability
is a virtual impossibility
to advance beyond a footnote
in a vanity published history
you must apply your feckless self
to scientific study
and the classics of the ancients.
The air outside smells of forever
salt breeze from the Downs
carries the coo-calls of men
they mow hay in the 10 acre
today while the sun shines
and the soft buzz of life invades
the stale school-room
a bluebottle bats the casement
in frenzy to escape
back to the fields
my blood throbs with a longing
to swing the scythe
and walk in rhythm with the earth.
Girls spin yarn
to tie them to the wheel
as Eve and Eve and Eve
span since Adam demanded
hair shirts and underpants
to cover his naked ambition
to leave the land
and build satanic monuments
to revolution and evolution
of the state of man
but I, shiftless
stare at the sky and wish
I was fishing
and spitting cherry stones
at dragonflies.
A contest entry
- Shiftless by ea.
800 points, ended August 8, 9 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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It is beautiful and I do believe I have found a new poet.
It has a rural feel, but more so, a "time gone by" feel to it. A time of simplicity before the mechanized world and blind ambition became it's God.
And because of that, it's easy to sit, looking out a window wishing we were fishing, or in my case, a large meadow, just feeling the breeze and knowing for that moment I am off society's' grid.
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Woman's first mistake, or possibly second,
was in the not leaving the men shirtless
and remaining shiftless, or at least attempting to be,
which is true value that we should pursue
fishing, and spitting cherry stones
and all other manner of fodder
at the dragonflies...which of course
always manage to avoid.
I love my shiftless ways
for therein find I my center.
Busy hands are fine and dandy
and we always get the work done
eventually
it's just that the dreamer
who stares out the window
exudes potential
rather than the other students
merely droning away.
They are the pesky flies and mosquitoes of this life
while we butterflies
drift away, our horizons perhaps less tangible
yet more beautiful on the page.
But pardon my verbosity. What a lovely visual this poem gives. I could have strolled along for hours along your merry way with word and phrase. You always paint the greatest pictures.
Wouldn't change a word, wouldn't dream of it.
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Thank you Earrant- that was far more lovely than my poem
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NO WAY! But thanks.
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This is wonderful, I love it - much to admire. I'm fascinated by this finger game (?) of spinning the yarn called Eve, Eve, Eve... just saw someone spinning twine with a foxer last weekend - it reminds me of that - some kind of implement used or not? The second stanza is my favorite all the way through but I do love the ending, as well. Thanks for a fine entry.
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algebra and adam and eve... all that you can ask for in a poem Carolyn... damn this is good...
maybe a little wordy in parts, but hey ho, what do i know, it all works and i loved the read
just what you need on saturday morning... most beautimous to smile at
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Thanks Gill- yes , I felt there was a bit to much of the prepostional stuff, but couldn't fgure how to whip it down without losing mood and sense. Hopefully fresh eyes will leap to a solution or a revision sometime. It is an idea I want to keep.
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Oh how amazing I love this piece the humour and the way you have kept the thread going to go back to where you started, very well written and so realistic the first stanza remind me of a conversation I recently had with my daughter. A really fantastic take on the prompt and I just love the end. Excellent.
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