A rhythm calls me to the west
and calls me to get up and dressed
silently I rise and say
'Good morning to the new born day.'
-----------------------------------
say hello to saintly snows
and halos made of leafy blows
that blizzard by your garden front
and blush your childhood as you grow
say hello to first time winds
that scandalise your soft eyelids
and leave you with the reddish glow
and brush your childhood as you grow
say hello to brisk sunshine
that tans you like the sharpest wine
you're sharp now where you once were slow -
and crush your childhood as you grow.
-----------------------------------
sing of whirling teenage days
and dancing wildish dervish ways
Oh! seasons will not trouble you
Oh! sing no more of your childhood.
fresh and hungry in the night
you spoil for bloody love and fight
your pack will split the loot and lays
Oh, sing of whirling teenage days
On your own you catch the breeze
that blows by like Jehovah sneeze
but stand strong like the finest tree
Oh sing of wildish teenage ways
Oh, sing of whirling teenage days
-----------------------------------
adulthood has not caught you well
thirty has not found you swell
stationary you are sad
but say not that adulthood's bad
you pay the rent and mop the floor
and long once more for metaphors
and shining star-streaked bloody nights
and passion under cool moonlight
but say not that adulthood's bad
thirty five has found you sad
but childhood's given as a gift
and memory is never thrift.
1 comments:
Quite the exercise in epicity(?). It's a chart of the life of modern man, a sort of bittersweet joy in the things you used to dream of doing.
That fifth line in the third stanza of the third section- what does it mean? With its presence alone it suggests that the climax of human life is in the teenage years, especially since the writer is singing out loud, as opposed to the childhood, which is passively crushed, and adulthood, which he only reminisces.
I like it very much, I can feel the words evoke the dulling of the senses and desires that comes with aging, I can feel the main character age with the world, almost see things turn sepia-toned as the poem goes on.
Good work!
- d
P.S. comments, most of which are not really relevant
That part about Jehovah sneeze just reminded me of Marley for some reason.
Halos? Blizzard? Were you gaming when you wrote this?
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