by Darryl Price
we feel entitled to, so unwanted, afraid for, from the billions of stomping oafs, leaping onto our hearts like squishing jelly sandwiches for fun, bullies in power out there? To be brilliant on
its tiny behalf? I forget, exactly why
are you still here anyway? Don't you
have somewhere else to go, one that's so incredibly, much more important than being here, present and accounted for, with us? Weren't
you that one who proudly proclaimed that, "real
love's no more useful than a useless path to any of your other false riches?" What shall
we have built in its place, to honor our children's sad writing, for days and many cold hungry hours? Who
will stand, alone or without being inwardly ugly and somewhat outwardly boring as you seem to long to be? What's that stupid thing
you're always lurking behind anyway? You'll say
your true name, at last then, to the whole assembled room, as one revoked lie to another? Who smoked
the last cigarette? Why's that so
hard to admit? Who poked the last
hole in my heart? Why don't
you put on some good music? What
makes you think you have to take everything
we say so literally? Who'll define
this love after we're gone from the room? Look, I'm through waiting
for you to fess up, but why not you?
Who else is there? Who's side
are you really on? How are we
ever going to find the courage we need
without your help? Will you at
least finish taking home the first someone of your own dreams before it's much, much too late to kiss them in a beautiful and perfect moonlight?
Bonus poems:
Here Hum This
For your information I do hope you'll find us. Hope
you're still looking. Hold on hope even if it's all you've got left of all you once thought you knew to be certain and true.
You'll find us. Continue looking for us because we're still always looking for you.
You'll find our signs growing in the wind sooner than later. We'll have bunches of joyful
kisses for you to share with all of us when you finally do get here. Hum this tune. Won't
you help to cherish the
sacred waterfall, keep its secret? Keep the word love
flowing into your minds like another waterfall. Dream a supreme
joy on purpose. Breathe it. You'll find
us. Open up your everlasting
eye and let your soul
shine forth. Know you'll find
you. It's all about the
love. That's all there is.
The Obviously Once Sat Upon Road
twisted itself around alright,
leaving us more dull than sorely seated, but
the almost here lights blanketed
the deep down of our own winsome lucky streak
like some vanilla frosting made
of smoke and fog that had come
from nowhere to keep us at least floating, floating, floating toward home again
like a thank you note delivered
on a silver tray by a gloved
and proper wind, who left for bed
immediately afterwards I might add.
They just don't stick around once their jobs
are done I guess. But I swear it
didn't simply sprout up like a
billion tiny angelic
mushrooms rising up together
all over the softest places we carefully
walked upon once. Although now I think about
it, why not? The world is still
one baffling mystery after another. The small
miracle of just us still seeing
into each other's eyes in this
foolish landscape's muck under such harsh
circumstances has a lot of
local help from all the juices
being squeezed up and through the old
ambiguous, overcrowding
trees if you ask me. I say that
because they don't often question
their very beings like some I
could name. If there are no friendly
trees to believe in then you get
your merriest boost from the nearest
walking varmint, know it or not.
I mean the world's fur is full of
wild things with legs of their own. Things
that don't necessarily have
to be fixed to matter to the
comic progression towards the
whole cosmic progression of things going back to meet and greet itself.
You know the whole star eating star
bit? Nothing's going to stop that
much crushing hunger from feeding on
itself. But is it beautiful
in the end? Are we going to remain beautiful like that from
now on? I want to know.Will this dream
matter to future strangers? Or
are we the only witnesses
to ourselves and when it's gone it's utterly and for always just simply
gone? I can't stand that much sadness in the world.
It steps on and breaks an already broken
branch in my heart. Remember. Please
remember. Whatever happens . Remember me.
The author has not attached a note to this story.
This story has no tags.
|
6
favs |
897 views
7 comments |
964 words
All rights reserved. |
People shoot fish in a barrel all the time and win cash prizes for it. They kill rabbits with guns big enough to hunt elephants with and take pictures next to the pulverized pieces. You may think it's an obvious question to pose, but think. Who exactly is it that cares enough to say I care about you and really means it? Why are you giving them your money?Your time?
This story has no tags.
so many questions, and behind each question, a riddle for children. watched "breakfast club" (john hughes) this afternoon where ally sheedy's character says "when you grow up your heart dies". well, when it does, you have no chance to decipher this poem.
DP, really liked these, but in particular the first one, great words and rhythms at work and it tugs.
*
Darryl, my man, so thrilled you're back with these unanswereable questions and the bonus question just for dessert. I vaguely recall a time when you had your own personal questions about writing, or poetry, or whatever. Here is where to place them, in your incredible art. Bring it, as you do, as you are.
Fave.
These are both great, Darryl.
*
"Who else is there? Who's side
are you on? How are we
ever going to find our courage
without your help? Will you at
least finish taking home your own?"
Love this!
Thank you Marcus,Sam, Susan,Robert and Bill. The fact that these words have reached you is better than anything I could have wished for.I appreciate our being here together in the poem's moment.
Defend the love, yes, that's what you do in your writing so well. Love these.
Lovely :)
Good writing, DP.
"If there are no friendly
trees to believe in then you get
your merry boost from the nearest
walking varmint, know it or not."
I like it.
Thank you Marcelle and Sam for your kindness in visiting and responding to my work. This one took it right out of me, but I felt proud of the results.And your words make it worth the effort. Thank you.