"bagpiper" poems
His garb was not spectacular,his shoes were grey and worn;
his hair was longer than a mere crewcut.
His nails were very *****
his veins were free of needles-
and his face shone bright red
in the misty sunlight.
He greeted the sky with a wail of delight,
and the hearts of passers began to throb.
Summer and autumn were remarried in an embrace of generous hope,
throbbing airwaves,tapping feet,delighted smiles.
And then along came a citizen,politically correct;
oh so relevant,barely tolerant ,emancipator.
With a fuzz of of ***** gray
a salloween expressive nosegay-
A mission to expunge the infiltrator!
He was busy with his flute;
he could not practise,he said
"I only live two hundred yards away.
You must cease and leave this place
you do not fit here in this race-
ABANDON this ridiculous idea!"
So,the stopwatch was set;
the 'half hour rule' began to reign:
And the police turned up
after merely twenty minutes!
Nelson's watch saved the day
"take another twenty"They did say
and our liberator slunk away
unfairly treated.
Though earth on heel and
sky on neck:Lovers'
authentic myth
outshining heaven:
a piper
on a bridge
unsheathed
across
the Ij
A klted
magpie.
unswathed
the lay
fairly
greeted
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 7:55 AM UTC
Birds came and pecked through the silver top,
popping their beaks in
for a dribble of milk,
it was cold then,
back in the old days
not so anymore.
And the slow light of the glow worm that could turn a bird in mid flight would send sparse light, but enough light as if enough light was a feast.
The snowmen in the garden that stood under the clothes line looked perfect with two buttons sewed into their eyes until the thaw came and they melted like our hearts did when they went away and the days grew even longer after that.
The frogspawn burst into tadpoles became black comma's in the pond and the herons flew like spitfire aircraft,
how daft we laughed and gaily played as if the season would last forever and tomorrow would never come.
Mr's Brown is Bobby coming out to play today?
Then Bobby went away,
taken by leukemia that crept in silently and took him quietly and still we squandered the fading sunlight.
On the dullest of days when the bagpiper plays and a darkness comes into my heart,
I stand there, out on the foreshore, waiting for emptiness
and wanting no more.
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 3:27 AM UTC
Oh... Here you are, alas.
I was in this misinterpretation,
that somewhat your arrival at this house of past, might haunt you.
And so your arrival was nothing more than a myth to me.
But no, you have proved me wrong like you always did.
Did you notice the wall, I knew you had a fascination for the limbo, draped with the designs of floral, more of pink and less of the blue I guess??
See, I told ya, I knew ya,
But you never removed the blindfold of cheat and latched onto his charms.
He surely was the bagpiper of your heart.
Speaking of the bagpiper how is he??
Your love...
Is he still having his floral print shirt and blue coat on, the day you left with him?
He is way more good looking than me
Tall as his righteousness, tanned as the king, mustache rounded up to the nexus, Aryan featurette to the peak, and money spoke more than he himself.
God, I knew your love... the song your heart played.
My heart did play some music but mostly it was the song of remembrance.
Was I even half of what he is??
I don't know... But I did lose the only woman that I thought I had gripped.
And yes you have proved me wrong as you have always done.
I was hardly a man like him, and I knew for myself that I would hardly keep you the way, he might.
But that said my love for you, my dearest ex-wife, would not die.
Even though, while you read this, and I might be sleeping in my tomb,
You will hear the presence of my voice in this room.
Yes, the room, where you and I were about to share a bed.
That might not change, I told the painter to keep it as it is,
Sometimes fondling with your scar might set you to feel right.
Oh, by the way, you told me to frame the windowpane wood, and so I did.
It was hard to tell my niece that you left...
She really loved you and felt it when she called you chotoma..
I feel bad for him.
I know that ma is no more on talking terms with you... She will be fine as the day passes by... You know she lost a son and my brother is all she has now...
Just give her some time.
My letter is at its finest, it's just the one thing I had to say.. If any day you think of coming to my tomb, please bring a hibiscus in my name.
Jun 18, 2019
Jun 18, 2019 at 4:49 AM UTC