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(Platter of) Figs and Oranges Set to Music


by Darryl Price


 

Lonely kids only want this thing

To not be lonely. The lonely

Kids have learned to be absolutely

Still. Who does this fall to? They

Haven't read enough Vonnegut?

David Foster Wallace? Remote

Kids stand and prepare to leave the

Planet. Any room, every room.

Isolated kids are devastated

By all the silence. The sad kids

Die a little more each night.  Poor

Lonely kids have never seen a

Poem turn into a truthful

Way to live. Let's give them that. The

Solitary kids don't know what

We're asking of them. Look. Lonely

 

Means small crowds of one. And lonely

Means forgotten about. Lonely

Means rudely un-awakened for

Some cake. Kids are not sure if you

Are joking or not. Lonely sits

the borderline between darkness

and cold chills. Lonely means not right

now. Not even maybe. They're used

to it. The lonely kids curse does

not fit the crime. The little kids

suffer in vain. The lonely kids

are like an empty pocket, a

broken window; tiny pieces

taken apart.  These lonely ones

can't take much more. The lonely kids

act like squashed ants. Like an excuse

 

for adults to get good and drunk.

An art theft before the painting

is ever finished. The kids are

just as soluble in forests

as seas. The lonely kids don't know

one moon on their bedroom walls from

another. The lonely kids have

not danced in many years. Lonely

Means: everything's not okay, ok?

Lonely means can't remember. Kids

Need to be reactivated,

Sometimes. That's where we can come in.

With a few kind words. Working as

Good listeners. With a plate of

Figs and oranges made for the

Spirit. To honor the life in

 

Every life. We honor the life

In clouds. We honor the life in

Trees. We honor the life in dirt.

In mountains. In streams. In stones.  We

Honor the life in words. In thoughts.

In dreams. We honor the life in

Laughter. In the stars. In bees. Birds.

We should honor it in people.  dp  





Bonus poems:




All Lies by Darryl Price

 

You could do it. You could make the  

Bullets take another trajectory. But the world will

Continue to harm innocent animals. Children can understand

The language of flowers. They take it for

 

Granted. That's why they cry over sad things

Oceans away. Their hearts are picking up all

Those signals coming in. Makes them either grow

Up or go crazy. But you could do

 

It.  You could end all wars. Isn't that

Something? It was always you after all. Yes

You could take the perfect photograph. You'll get

The dancer in the end. All you have

 

To do is lay down your weapons. Look

Up for the last time. Have no fear.

You won't need to eat where you are

Going. Could you, unlock the doors while you're

 

In there? Just do it. Nothing to it.

We'll be waiting for your second coming with

Doves in our shirts. When you do decide

To kick the earth out of its orbit

 

Please remember the poems we left at your

Garden gate. They contain the names of all

Those we loved more than you. We've given

Up all lies, it's the least we can

 

Do. After all you're the one making the

Ultimate sacrifice. What are you waiting for? You've

Got our attention now. Turn on your TV.

Antennas are twitching for your grand excuse. Just

 

As we thought. You don't want the job

Either. You ask why we make our homes

In the branches of trees. Isn't it obvious?

We want to be first to welcome you.  dp

 

 

   




The Argument by Darryl Price


Someone has lit the sky again, declaring it a new

Morning and I walk alone. There are broken pieces everywhere.

A new sky has been flicked on and I've become

A mere green figure captured in its blink. The lapping

 

Of the water has nothing to say. I don't know

Who put that light on again, but they have done

Me a great disservice. I was just about to jump

Into the great moving mass of stars. I was going

 

To let them swallow me up. But now there's some

Sort of new meaning taking place around me. It has

Birds in it, and cars, and people clustering like flowers

On the branches of streets. It has breezes squirting delicious

 

Smells into every corner. Even the buildings seem to be

Getting ready to stand and stretch their rooftops. It used

To make me feel glad, too. So, someone has taken

It upon themselves to light this thing once more and

 

Here am I pulling a poem out of my hat

For an empty theatre. It's the only thing I know

How to do. I would offer it to you for

Nothing but your hand is nowhere to be found.  Someone

 

Has lit the sky again and I'm sure their intentions

Were noble enough. But those stars were oh, so convincing. The

Arguments were more like songs than bee stings. That's what

You get in the day's wake. Either way I'm simply

 

Not up to the task. My feet are as sad

As the rest of me. Someone lit the sky again

And without even asking if it might disturb a worried

Dreamer. Someone lit the sky and I'm beginning to scorch.

 

I'll have to get up and move even if I

Don't want to leave the spot of my disgusted silence

To the ants and butterflies. Here you go. You get

Your wish. I'm no longer in the shadows trying to

 

Conceal myself from the rest of the world. Yet

My heart still feels broken. That's all I'm saying. So

To the someone who lit the sky I'm sure that

Took some guts. But I don't envy you your job.

 

Mine is much more personal. It hurts like hell every

Hour I try to do it one more time and

better. Enjoy your gig. I wish you the best of

Luck. From where I sit you're going to need it.  dp

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