jayward33.blog-city.com
ONE OF THOSE DAYS
posted Monday, 26 October 2009
ONE OF THOSE DAYS
i have nothing
to do
and all day to
do it
i have no where
to go
and all day to
get there
i have nothing
to see
and all day to
look at it
i have nothing
to listen to
and all day
to hear it
the muse dances naked
in imagination
the only image
on my horizon
she dances to tunes
randomly selected
by a machine
her slave
pen in hand
admires her ever changing
form
the scribble
forms a meaning all
its own
like making sense
of a six year olds
memory of the
pebbles
on a beach
that ended
up hidden in a small boy's pocket
those dawns from
summer 1941
while in tattered shorts and bare feet
on a distant beach
the just learned quick dive
off the end of the dock
refreshed and looking
for treasures
in the sand
still she dances
long before i'll ever understand why
when my Mom was
the most beautiful woman
in my life
now i stare down the length
of the long plank table
and remember my mom
at her leaving
fading like her beauty
and then she was gone
the voice from the machine
lays some rap poetry on me
unimpressed
my muse urges me
to leave because its just become
one of those days
JWL ©26/10/2009
i have nothing
to do
and all day to
do it
i have no where
to go
and all day to
get there
i have nothing
to see
and all day to
look at it
i have nothing
to listen to
and all day
to hear it
the muse dances naked
in imagination
the only image
on my horizon
she dances to tunes
randomly selected
by a machine
her slave
pen in hand
admires her ever changing
form
the scribble
forms a meaning all
its own
like making sense
of a six year olds
memory of the
pebbles
on a beach
that ended
up hidden in a small boy's pocket
those dawns from
summer 1941
while in tattered shorts and bare feet
on a distant beach
the just learned quick dive
off the end of the dock
refreshed and looking
for treasures
in the sand
still she dances
long before i'll ever understand why
when my Mom was
the most beautiful woman
in my life
now i stare down the length
of the long plank table
and remember my mom
at her leaving
fading like her beauty
and then she was gone
the voice from the machine
lays some rap poetry on me
unimpressed
my muse urges me
to leave because its just become
one of those days
JWL ©26/10/2009
SACHA and MAYA
update
1. BILLY WILLBOND left...
Monday, 26 October 2009 11:28 am :: http://iwvpa.net/willbondwha
The poet speaks of long ago dreams of little bare feet and cut off jeans -
he tells the story of his formative years and his Mother's passing in a
veil of tears - another great poem my friend - blessings - billy PS did
you get the kick ass yet?
2. John-Ward Leighton left...
Monday, 26 October 2009 12:01 pm :: http://jayward33.blog-city.com/
not yet Billy, thank you for your comment.
JWL
3. catty left...
Monday, 26 October 2009 3:15 pm :: http://savetheamericanfamily.blog-city.c
You are a rich man. The treasures of memories both happy and sad and those
two really cute grand kids.