How is this poem
honeybean
,
Monday, 9th of August 2010 08:19:51 PM
It is an idea, l quickly jotted down.Do you think l can go anywhere with honeybean it? The Many Places... A bustling parking lot, Registered User />a white washed house, Standing like a monument of protest Joined: Sunday, 23rd of May 2010, 06:26:17 />against a strip of stores.
A neighborhood that looped 'round Posts: 2037 back,
and a private road, often traveled.
Ivory covered houses Viewed 15666 times behind petal storms,
sitting like faces behind veils against a
backdrop of woods.
A little girl, a red tricycle, and a blue
dress,
threadbare, yet loved.
A little boy, and his group
of friends, 10 speed bikes
and mean faces- a challenge and a chase, a
lost little girl,
and a highway
that would lead her to other
places,
to other homes and other townships
and cities.To
schools, boarding schools
and finally other states.To downtown
excursions,
late night rituals, and first drunken tirades. />Tales of sabotage at the hands of friends, and plotted escapes.
To
the trailer in a trailer park, the first home and a small
spending
spree.A fake diamond ring and plans for a wedding.
To a broken union
and baby is first kick, the birth, and a proud mother,
a bewildered
mother, behind a smile, booties and a bonnet, and last minute plans.A trip
back
home, and another shot at family life, a second first home in a
basement.
Hung pictures, simmering stew, and seasoned sachets.A
white wooden crib and
a screaming tot, a screaming pot, screaming
parents, and slamming doors.
Slamming doors against mothers
who drop their kids like gift baskets
upon your lap,
a diaper
bag and its contents spilling across the floor;
cased secrets
spinning upon a shelf, and a shaking room
against screaming,
screaming , and accusations.
And then tickets upon a night stand,/>a quickly scrawled letter,
and a ragged suitcase, threadbare, yet
loved.
and a plan,
a half hearted plan to get away.
/>But not until years later,
when ripples settle, and waters have
since stilled,
with a child half grown
and plans of her own,/>on a random event.
A requested stop along the way,
a brief
pause
beneath a sycamore tree and an out of place bird upon a limb.
A welcoming chirping chatter, like an old friend.
A
small paved lot,
a small gray house,
and newly owned shops. />The same size it has always been.
Fun Buns
,
Tuesday, 10th of August 2010 01:43:00 AM
i really like it..good job Fun Buns Registered User Joined: Wednesday, 19th of May 2010, 06:25:32 Posts: 336 Viewed 4755 times
Ewiekins
,
Wednesday, 11th of August 2010 11:57:42 AM
Well, TD likes it, that makes it even more golden in my book. Ewiekins This was a beautiful reminiscence with breathtaking imagery. I felt like I Registered User was back in the town where I grew up, where people knew your name, and Joined: Tuesday, 18th of May 2010, 03:17:56 there was still potential on that highway that went to heaven knew where. Posts: 686 I love the continuity that the house adds to the poem, making it end Viewed 12675 times almost where it began, and yet there was a transition from innocence to
experience. Beautiful.
Sugah Buggah
,
Thursday, 12th of August 2010 10:23:08 PM
This is lovely. The fifth stanza really ties it all together. Sugah Buggah For a longer piece, it is so easy to read and follow. You are my favorite Registered User new ligan. It was Elaine that made me read your work. TD Joined: Sunday, 25th of April 2010, 08:23:22 Posts: 1848 Viewed 3174 times
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