A small red bicycle
Lying forlorn in the dirt
The torn off head
Of a once beautiful doll
Cradled in the roots
Of the old tree
Still holding on to
A rusted broken swing
The wind blowing sand
Across the deserted porch
Slamming the screen door
Against its sagging frame
Rattling the loose tiles
On the dilapidated roof
Creating a sad symphony of
The house I used to live in
My life is much the same
As that old broken down house
Waiting to be rebuilt
To shine like new
Bask in its old glory
All it will take now
Is a bit of courage
And a whole lot of work
-
Author:
Alfred Peyer (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 6th, 2017 00:06
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 55
Offline)
Comments11
Painted a picture in my mind and ended with a smile after the last three lines - great work Alfred
Thank you Michael, the last three lines are really what this is all about!
I really loved the imagery you created with this poem. All of the senses are tickled! Good job!
Thank you virago, I do appreciate your comments!
Evocative. You should see the tumbledown mess i love in. I know exactly wheres you coming from in this. I read it thru a couple of times picturing that jumble. All that work ahead and time to write too? Can i have one of your 36hour clocks please.
Haha, good one. Don't have 36 hour clocks, but as I get older I don't seem to need as much sleep anymore. Leaves a little bit extra time to write.
does that mean to erase everything above those three lines? sometimes what we mean may not mean the same thing to another. I liked everything above those three lines. for me (not you)this body of mine got old to quickly with all the chemicals I did years ago. I'm ashamed to say what. but these days I feel very weak. with this body and heart. I have my mind and although it is very different then others. I feel to use it to compensate for my body. I love looking into my past. I take delight in it. to me its right here. I just got from someone an inspiration to write a book about living off the land. with no income. fishing, scrap metal. gold in the streets. living in a tent. bread was very cheap. I'm going to use my mind going back there and tell about my adventures. do you want a copy of the book? ha! ha!
The idea for this poem actually came when I looked into the mirror, no kidding. The outside is starting to look like it needs some work, just like an old run-down house. Maybe it's only cosmetic. Better food, less wine, and starting up my five tibetans again. Plus some weight workouts, and I should be as good as new. I can dream, can I not?
dream, dream, dreaming is good, it can help us solve problems.
former body builder paul.
Very good write and imagery. I do hope that you can find the courage to do the work. I am sure that many on here will support you.
Thank you! And I will need all the support I can get. Working out right after getting up in the morning is a bummer, but I guess I don't have much choice.
Love the positive ending to this engaging and imaginative verse - - good imagery too Fred.
Mahalo Fay. Sometimes I do feel like an old run-down shack. But the plumbing and electricity are still in top shape. 🙂
I invisioned this wee house in my mind. And i believe in you. Believing is becoming ❤
Thank you Renzi, at least somebody believes in me 🙂
These bodies may be a "sad symphony" of our former selves, but the mind and soul grow endlessly, don't they. Great imagery in this one, Fred! Loved it.
Thank you Louis. You are right, there are no boundaries for the mind and soul. All the beautiful and stimulating poems on this site are proof of that.
I got a bit confused with the beginning. I was not sure what you were talking about but later I've got the message. In the beginning seemed to me that old house was a scenario for a crime like on the movie The shack. I loved to read your poem. Thank you.
Thank you Malu, I did not want to give it away in the first few lines. Not true! A lot of times, no, most of the time, when I start writing I have no clue where it will lead me. As I mentioned to Paul, the idea for this one came to me when I was looking into a mirror. But the initial idea was just to compare bodies to houses. Have no idea where that came from though.
Love your comment about a crime scene. That might be inspiration for something in the future.
Yes, it happens to me too. Out of nothing I create something.
Great write, I could see it as I read it. Well done
Thank you Tony, writing for myself is nice, but having others read it and appreciate it is the icing on the cake!
I know the feeling
Great use of words! A very vivid picture came in my head when reading this, really enjoyed it
Glad you could imagine it Shannon. While I compare myself to that old run-down shack, you evoke more the picture of a brand-new beautiful house on the beach!
Aww that's so sweet, thank you 🙂
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