POETRY - Can you write a Poem?

[DonQuixote]

Lefty,
That's an extremely poignant poem.
It would be an important insert into
many a school's year book/Literary Magazine,
although I think admin and parents might take exception.

How many young lives have gone down this road?
How many poor, innocent babes have born the brunt of this emotion?
And yet, if only they could get past the error of their day
and embrace the child as a challenge and a gift from Him on high.

For, it's not the babe who was at fault,
and as the cliche' goes,
there's no sense crying over spilt "milk".

"til time to meet the challenges of the new dawning day
and not exact toll from each other, claiming they must pay.
And do what you must for the creation of your love
for there was more there than simple lust.

 

[ShihTzuTylenol]

Aye, what DQ said...

That was certainly touching monsieur Lefty, and I'm perhaps most impressed with the depth of your literary time line with relatively few passages.You've taken on a dark subject matter steeped in a fragile set of circumstances; not an easy task to confront, especially with dash of humor, yet you make it shine brightly.

I could be wrong, but I see that little guy growing up strong and brave [with a solid respect for Lady Speed Stick and proper oral hygiene] just to let his parents know it wasn't all in vain.

They say, form follows function, and you've certainly raised some interesting issues for discourse. It seems to me, if your intent was to create a dialogue, you scored a bulls eye.

All in all, it's simply a terrific little poem, concise and endearing, and it verifies something I think we all knew in our hearts; you're a good person, Leftholomew Writicus.

______Thank you sir.

************************

And a quick note to D[airy]Q[ueen]'s brief critique y rebuttal.

You are a pretty sharp tool yourself monsieur Quixote. I can only assume life and it's relentless maintenance has placed a burden on your writing career[?] AmIright? IamHuh?

You're good too. And like our esteemed colleague on the Left, I'd say you're a natural wordsmith as well.

I applaud you both.

 

[Lefty]

I am that child that was born
To parents daunted and forlorn

Two lifetimes destroyed and sent amiss
the final result begun by an errant kiss

I was raised with pain and bitterest hurt.
My ego and my pride drug through the dirt

My daddy sold lots of drugs and went to jail
My mommy sold herself to anything male

Desperate I clawed I kicked I groped
Til the day I lost all for which I had hoped.

And now my wrists bleed where they are slit
Goodbye to all hear this last and thats it.....

I'm going now please try...try and see
use a condom don't make another me.



"Q", 'Tze", you are to blame for ^ one.

Just patting me on the back is dangerous,

I am easily encouraged and hard to stop...

 

[DonQuixote]

Lefty,
Are you familiar with Best Friends Play Hard, by GSDX (Neil)?
Several people, me among them, railed at the original, suicidal, ending.

I won't go into details.

In your efforts to "ruin" your first, poignant work, you fail miserably.
For, there is a strong anger in the flip stanzas about mom and dad.
It's an all too possible conclusion to the saga - if the child lived long enough to make that decision.

Do I "like" it? No. But not because it's a smart assed attempt to deflect praise.
It's powerful. It's the conclusion I abhor.

 

[DonQuixote]

Querido Shih Tzu,
You are most kind.

While I am somewhat skilled at reacting and responding to something, my powers of prose progenesis pale.

I can expound on a topic I have some passion for in great detail, but I am poor at proferring tales such as you have told.

I will confess that I have an affinity for alliteration,
and oft will find a line from a song to make a salient response,
And I can play iambic in my pentameter,
But as far as true, good fiction, alas.

 

[Lefty]

Don, you write purty gud..
-----------------------------------
Listen Boy

We enjoy

Sharing and caring

Writing or reciting

Its the giving

Part of living

That clears the way

And makes the day.
------------------------------

Leftiest Slobiest
Hallmark Card of Famer

 

[Kulindahr]

Is this the space
for me to place
some words of ryth'm and rhyme?

If I could
I know I would --
well, maybe some other time.

 

[ShihTzuTylenol]

Here is an excerpt from the Neil Young song Rockin' In The Free World; a cynical view of the rock star's role in a broken society.

I thought of it when I read Lefty's first piece, but this one has no hope in the end, it's pure tragedy. Very similar to Lefty's second piece/a hardcore description of sadness.

I see a woman in the night
With a baby in her hand
Under an old street light
Near a garbage can
Now she puts the kid away,
and she's gone to get a hit
She hates her life,
and what she's done to it
There's one more kid
that will never go to school
Never get to fall in love,
never get to be cool.


I tear up when I hear those last four lines. Poor little kid.

 

[ShihTzuTylenol]

Querido Shih Tzu,
You are most kind.

While I am somewhat skilled at reacting and responding to something, my powers of prose progenesis pale.

I can expound on a topic I have some passion for in great detail, but I am poor at proferring tales such as you have told.

I will confess that I have an affinity for alliteration,
and oft will find a line from a song to make a salient response,
And I can play iambic in my pentameter,
But as far as true, good fiction, alas.

Fiction is that, fiction. But there's got to be a thread of truth weaved within the cloak that holds your nonsensical aspects in place.

I try to imagine how J.D. Salinger, John Steinbeck or Ernest Hemingway must have released there inhibitions to be so bold and merciless.

You have to free your inner thoughts and deep dark secrets to let them play.

 

[Lefty]

Mom and dad made something as kids
Something not even on their grids

He was the jock straps penultimate star
Her looks and brains should take her far

A hot summer night out at the lake
they made one just one mistake.

They passed on the prom queen and king
Had a bigger date in the maternity wing

Young in life but hardly free
They chose to care of me.

With things hey never had very much
No mansions estates money and such

They kept swinging from the toss to the pitch
And life always threw them another bad hitch

But they shared love and their very souls
Gave them to me to reach my lifes goals

Over the years I have done better than good
Hit every target just as I said that I would

I got a call and that destroyed me one day
The man said accident they've gone away

Their friends are all here and the funeral about to start
You bury the bodies I have them buried deep in my heart.
---------------------------------------
Ok, different part two. and I'm not going going gone
on liking any of my stuff....can you feel it...laugh, cry sniff or sigh
depending on the piece. just don't yawn

 

[DonQuixote]

Lefty,
Your pieces are powerful.
The love and sacrifice in your most recent post yes, are more in line with this "incorrigible romantic"'s ideals in life.

That's not to take away from the intensity and the power of your previous post - it tore my heart out.

 

[DonQuixote]

Fiction is that, fiction. But there's got to be a thread of truth weaved within the cloak that holds your nonsensical aspects in place.

I try to imagine how J.D. Salinger, John Steinbeck or Ernest Hemingway must have released there inhibitions to be so bold and merciless.

You have to free your inner thoughts and deep dark secrets to let them play.

My dear friend,
I have freed my inner thoughts and deep dark secrets - some here as posts to threads, a few times in-depth via PM to share with people who were in a state of turmoil themselves - I shared a) so they knew they weren't alone in their journeys,
b) so they could see where I've been and how I'm still fighting the good fight, as it were, and keeping a stiff upper lip, eh wot? lol

I think I rush too much to put pen to paper to build a story.

 

[DonQuixote]

This is a story 'bout a man named 'dude,
Workin' on the beach trying to make a trail not too crude,
Earning not a penny one;
doing it as manna for the soul, food.

He has a heart of gold
and a pocketbook of mold.
His living quarters, growing old.
And from his need, this post so Bold.

His only shelter from the Sea,
a broken down, old hunk of RV.
Whose electrical now means strife,
leaving the RV, not Fit for Life.

So here's a link for you and me,
What he's been up to for us to see,
And if, when you're done perusing his pics,
You can, maybe you'll help him find a fix
for his accommodations that are on the nix.

http://www.shortbeachtrail.org/

 

[ShihTzuTylenol]

Wow.

I'm at a loss for words. I was going to post those stupid rhymes I made about mike and lefty but in reading that new part II I feel this is hallowed ground now, and at least for the moment, humor will have to wait.

I think something horrific happened to Lefty's mom and dad, and I need to know if they got to see him be successful before....
idk...there must be more to this Lefty. Please share.




btwNew Part II is a triumph in it's own rite, imo.

 

[Lefty]

"Q" anf "Tzu" I put some of my dumbest stuff in here and some of the stuff
I actually feel. The dumb stuff 'cause its fun...the other becuase this is a
relatively un touched part of JUB and the shields or what ever aren't the
priority the other places are.

My non joke stuff is submitted for you guys and a few others that can read it for what it actually says and not just the rhythm and rhyme. These aren't done for the..oh thats pretty shit. I need to feed on the emotional and intellectual
response... plus sometimes it just feels good to 'put it out there.'

Tzu, not going to open any closet doors....over time maybe i will share more, may you and Q will too. Suffice it to say my life has been an interesting journey both first and second hand. Ihave 1 each 1/2 bro and sis somewhere. 1 son I worship (the little bastard lol) and a wife of 30+ yrs. No other immediate family.
This chapter of As The Stomach Churns is thirty.

 

[Lefty]

The stiffening of the breeze

shivered branches of the trees

hanging in the midst of a vacuous sky

a pale gibbous moon attempted to fly

bodies to the left bodies to the right

bodies scattered to hell all through this night

As I walked there my mind was made and did roam

These were the children called far away from home.

The body parts and even the name tags too

might once have been pieces of me and you.

Come out now and take a stand

Reach out now and give a hand

Push aside labels ignore that name

Look inside where we're all the same

Give back to the people of this earth

The Love the care the sense of worth

It could happen and a wondrous thrill

A world of kids taught to live not taught to kill.

----------------changed somewhere enroute-------------.

 

[DonQuixote]

Lefty,
That fits pretty squarely with my theme song.
Actually, there are two that I have a particular fondness for -
To Dream the Impossible Dream, and,
Born Free - I can still picture the movie w/ the lions.

What if . . . .

Thanks for sharing your poem and a glimpse of your soul with us.

 

[Lefty]

FOOTnote to the "Q"

Lefty don't have no sole

man don't wear unnerpants much

and revels in his hillbilly DNA,

celebrating with NO shoes.

 

[DonQuixote]

I likes to freeball, myself, whenever I gets the chance.

Gotta let the air nurture them boys.

 

[Lefty]

Leave them swinging in the breeze

she takes those boys with gentle ease

makes them men and on your knees

anytime they squirt or please.