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Click hereHe tries to break out, escape the pattern
Of wasted mornings, gray beginnings
Where mist blankets the landscape
And raindrops are squeezed from the air
Like teardrops from a forlorn handkerchief
Sensing urgency, he tugs trousers on
Sans under armor, a hooded sweatshirt next
To conceal unkempt hair, aid inconspicuousness
He heads to the diner, face buried
In the days options, he eats and loses himself
Hopes for a new home, a new him
Drives streets of virgin whites and yellows,
Eyes pulsating pinks, vibrant and lush,
Which invite entry, suggest certain delights
If he will take the chance and open up
But possibilities only exist in books for him.
They are safe, captured by their binding.
He stops to stalk the shelves, for a friend
Sees books she would like, a gift
For an anniversary missed, but not forgotten
One by one, he chooses and scans covers
Each note teases and tempts, begs for more
Moments under his attention, whisper
Dig deeper, read me, feel me, know me
Until it becomes too intimate and intense
He starts to sweat, his lips quiver and his heart
Begins to swell, tears well and weep
Drip onto virgin covers, spoil the promise
Held within the pages, in his hands
He abandons the fiction and retreats home
Hammers out the conceit of his reality
For all to observe and admonish the sin
Silly, scared man shaking from syllables
Afraid to read, barely able to write
The lines which sentence him to obscurity
__________________
... about it being a short story disguised as poetry. The last stanza is very good. There are other good moments in the poem. Tighten it up some. :)
and screw that previous comment. Poetry without narrative is rather pointless.
this made me sad. It made me want to invite you out to dinner and pay attention to you. Therefore, it evoked a sensation and is by definition a good poem.
feebly disguised as an attempt at poetry. I guess today just was not the day to read poetry here at Lit.
Tongue tied? Hmmm...I don't know about that... But you do say in many ways (and words) what most share (not a bad comment), namely: getting up (not necessarily on the right side); finally getting out (maybe with some hope); grabbing something to eat (what was it?) doing errands; running back home (licking our wounds?)