THE ALLEY

3 Comments

Tags:
  • Sadness
    • ,
  • Life
    • ,
  • Philosophy

    Poem Commentary

    Drunkenness is a strange world. It's something only one who's incarcerated by it can explain. ... Questions you'd like to have answers for but were afraid to ask.

    THE ALLEY

    Blood beating
    smooth transition into
    careless detatchment
    like a leaf
    drunken
    discarded
    fallen to the ground
    in slow but perpetual
    baby bird helplessness

    Brused purple
    and green streaked
    in streams of red
    Five times he tries
    to rise again
    to regain purpose
    or perhaps just to find himself standing
    Who can know?

    A cocktail of odors
    eminates from his frame
    antimagnetic
    laying in
    yesterday's discarded cardboard
    wet with chop sue and rice

    Is he better off
    down there?
    What an awkward question?
    (Poor guy)
    'Can't pass him by
    'Can't pick him up
    I shield my nose

    The little man in white
    waving his arms
    in disgust seems badly to
    want him gone
    A squeeky lady is
    squeezing out a
    song in Manderin behind him

    The fallen warrior
    of circumstance
    is sparked to life
    Out from a fog of mumbles
    - utters intelligable retorts
    with matching distain
    bobbles like the little dog
    on the dashboard
    and rises without my help

    a parting curse
    to the man behind
    the closed door
    he trundles off
    ignoring me altogether
    I wonder if he's in my world
    Seems like I might be in his
    ... For this second at least

    Poem Comments

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    Madelynn commented on THE ALLEY

    08-17-2010

    How the heck can this poem only have (2) comments! This 'reality' is written so powerfully raw! Your ability to capture the readers mind, and bring them to your state of mind is phenomenal! Your message about the way society looks the other way- is a truth that I have such issue with- love this, HUGZ;)Maddi
    Reply to Comment

    NevillePark

    08/25/2010

    Thank you sweety! I enjoy writing when it seems to work.This one is heavy on the emotion factor and I'm there at the time so it seems like the truth. Like a stopped clock has it's reality at least twice in a day, this circumstance has no doubt played out somewhere in North America a few times.

    Marsink commented on THE ALLEY

    05-02-2010

    I haven't lived in the alley, but I've stumbled and paused in it long enough to know that I was the reason for most of all my calamity and pain. I like the style and phrasing in which this is so well told. Great word mastery!
    Reply to Comment

    NevillePark

    05/03/2010

    Thank you Marsink. It continues to be a burgeoning community, especially in these (the last) days. These people are essentially holding up a mirror to "organized" society with their reticence to challenge "the fates" but rather to stay where a measure of comfort can be found in fact that they seem to be able to continue on without falling off the edge of the earth. I can't say I understand what that feels like outside of tending to carry around a "what-ever-happens-happens" attitude ... and the Lord make up the difference, kind of outlook. I'm praying for the fire to fall and the river to flow, in my own walk. I'm sure when I put down my agenda and pick up His I'll be in a different world. Until then - ha ... let's just keep writing!

    devaamido commented on THE ALLEY

    04-17-2010

    This sounds like about half of the patients who will be in any urban Emergency Room this very night (Saturday) after about 10pm until around 4AM. Good descriptive portrait.
    Reply to Comment

    NevillePark

    04/19/2010

    Thank you dev. It's definitely a world within it's self. Hollywood only gives us snippets ... and only as they serve the cinematographer's whims. I always wondered what it's like to be a drunk. Thankfully that's not the world that has invited me into itself. My brother lives there.

    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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