sorta like a rope
Ennui. Dead end. Nothing to look forward to...
photo by dsnake1
sorta like a rope
today the sun comes out
but it's not burning
you try to ignore the sun
and the clock alarm too
you see this dead bird
rotting by the wayside trees
one good life gone, once skies,
now a home for maggots & flies.
you sit at the coffee shop
trying to sip your tea
the other old guys there
are scratching on betting slips
who knows, who knows your life
might change the next day
people begging you for handouts
or you just tear that slip away
you see this old geezer
trying to feed a stray cat
but the stray claws him
maybe it remembers something
the dark roads intersect at night
street lights shine no brighter
than the stars in the sky
somewhere in the distance drones
a siren
15/03/2023
**********
"sorta like a rope looking for a tree to finish the job." - ZQ
The title comes from a comment from ZQ, one of the readers of this blog.
Madonna - Frozen
© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2023
sorta like a rope
today the sun comes out
but it's not burning
you try to ignore the sun
and the clock alarm too
you see this dead bird
rotting by the wayside trees
one good life gone, once skies,
now a home for maggots & flies.
you sit at the coffee shop
trying to sip your tea
the other old guys there
are scratching on betting slips
who knows, who knows your life
might change the next day
people begging you for handouts
or you just tear that slip away
you see this old geezer
trying to feed a stray cat
but the stray claws him
maybe it remembers something
the dark roads intersect at night
street lights shine no brighter
than the stars in the sky
somewhere in the distance drones
a siren
15/03/2023
**********
"sorta like a rope looking for a tree to finish the job." - ZQ
The title comes from a comment from ZQ, one of the readers of this blog.
Madonna - Frozen
© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2023
Labels: ennui, environment, old age, urban
posted by dsnake1 at 12:30 AM
15 Comments:
Your poem is dark, deep ... a masterpiece! I also want to add that if you read the titles to the last ten poems you wrote, they create a poem of their own! Who Knew?
...some days are like this. Hopefully not many!
Helen,
Thank you!
Yes, I think the poem is a bit dark and pessimistic. It was a bit of scraps from here and there from old writings and also after observing some old folks at a coffee shop sitting around doing nothing. Thank god for poetry. 😀
Thank you for the suggestion on the poem titles. It's a project worth looking into. 😃
Margaret,
Thank you!
Most days are not like this. 😁
This is a strong piece ruminating on how heavy the weight of existence can be without a balancing force to lighten it.
Rommy,
Thank you!
Oh, how I like your comment, "how heavy the weight of existence can be without a balancing force to lighten it". 😀
How one chooses to live his/her life can only depends on how he/she weighs it. To the light or to the darkness.
Well written cheong
Thank you, Ashok! :)
Beautifully written, as always – but what a dark and dreary view. Describing what is there to be perceived, it's surely as valid – and thankfully, as temporary – as any other.
Thank you, Rosemary!
You find it dark and dreary too?
It is a scene I find in some elderlies over here. Lonely, aimless, poor. The dead bird on the roadside could be any one of those elderlies found dead alone in their flats.
At least old me has poetry to write. :)
Real life is exactly that... the cat that scratches, the dead bird, the air raid siren.... you just never know. Love this poem.
Thank you, Rajani! :)
Love this, ds! It is precisely "life".
😁😁
Thank you, Sara!
Hello in there? A snippet of real life without the gloss over. I was transported.
Thank you, Colleen!
😃
ha, with all the dust and grit.
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