Stranger and stranger still, the words of a stranger
The underground murmurs of a revolution!
of light!
and right!
That charismatic man on his corner
Who soothes the desperation of the shadows and the dark
Who sees and feels and tastes everything we can't
Our cracked
Jagged
Splintered sense of reality devoid of everything
To which we have been taught to be so numb.
Spoken from throbbing lips to granite ears
Is it wasted breath if no one hears?
Why does he stand in the rain and the snow
In a cheap plaid coat and shoes that have walked too many a moon
With strangers who didn't care for a stroll
Why does he spin for us
This yarn of
Once upon a time
There was a bird born from ash
Who flew to the highest peak of a mountain
To grant a faery wish to the most beautiful girl in all the land
Who wished this world to be cleansed from
Cynicism.
And disbelief.
Too little faith.
And a pinch too much of "I" and "me" and "mine".
I slouch past him and screw up my face
For I am far too mature and wise and sophisticated to stay.
I have no use in my busy life for the faery tales
Of that stranger on his street corner.
Wow "from throbbing lips to granite ears" wonderful language and image... Power-house of a poem
ReplyDeleteYou weave together fantastic images with rhythm and a great storyline. Excellent write!
ReplyDeleteOh wow... wondereful write and use of the wordle words.
ReplyDeleteWow ... this was brilliant to read!
ReplyDeleteFantastic use of the prompt words. Vivid scene and wonderful juxtapositon of emotions. Well done!
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
"Is it wasted breath if no one hears?"
ReplyDeleteYou weaved a powerful tale here! Well done.
you gave the "stranger" such life with a "Splintered sense of reality" wow great writing!!!
ReplyDeleteTerrific poem - I could see the guy on the corner in his threadbare coat and worn-out shoes, talking to anyone and no one.
ReplyDelete