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A MOCKING BIRD
The mocking howl of a lonely bird
Sitting on the tree branch in the yard
Mimicking mama crying out her pains
Overtaken by bugs and being alone
Arthritis, diabetics, hypertension and rheumatism
Her companions and strange bedfellows now
Sickbed, her field of play with excrement and urine
One room, the span of her whole wide world
She was a woman who dared men
That pounced on the helpless and the weak
Men who crossed lines protected by women
And played soccer with guys in novelty matches
She begged death to come to her
But it peeped from a corner and teased
Then went to other folks and mixes
To take young people in their prime
In and out of coma, she saw the faceless death
Coming out of it, she labeled her visitors
With names of people long dead and gone
Then chatted with the unseen spirits
Smiling back, she challenged the bird
Lamentations of an old woman have names
Hypoglycemia coma with symptoms
Of psychotic dementia on a referral
Mocking bird laughing at the aged
You seem not to know anything at all
Look around you, life is not what it seems
Pray it does not come to your doorsteps
Review Request (Intensity):
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction):
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage:
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Inspired by an article in an old manuscript, It reads:, AXIOMS OF PERFECTION, In the physical order – In the realization of the dream of beauty, In the moral order – In the realization of the dream of love, In the intellectual order – In the realization of dream of poetry, In the spiritual order – In the realization of the dream of the mystics
Comments
scribbler
Sat, 2011-07-16 14:18
Hello
Must say title gave no hint of what was to come. A very powerful poem. I have a few suggestions you might consider :
s-1,l-3 change cry to crying
s-2,l-4 change the to one
s-4 excellent
s-6,l-2 lamentation to lamentations
as always, feel free to use or not as you see fit..............scribbler
t. reflexion
Sun, 2011-07-17 02:29
Hi scribbler
Changes made. Thank you very much for the needle eye view on my scribbles. Are you suggesting that the title does not fit the piece? In all, I appreciate your comments and contributions. Best wishes
tr
A rekindled faith - Dancing in the Light
author commentscribbler
Mon, 2011-07-18 22:53
hello
No, I think the title is fine. I was just kind of expecting something else because of my having written a poem with same title and very different body. Guess I was title predisposed lol....................stan
t. reflexion
Sun, 2011-07-17 02:34
Dear Ian.T
Thank you. Your encouraging presence gives me hope and strength to carry on. Best wishes.
tr
A rekindled faith - Dancing in the Light
author commentGeezer
Sun, 2011-07-17 08:25
On the contrary...
Your title was perfect! ~ Gee
There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.
t. reflexion
Mon, 2011-07-18 04:25
Thank you
Joining the pool seems to be a challenge. Do I have to register amongst the ten or do I have to just post a piece, how? Please help a lonely traveler. Best wishes.
tr
A rekindled faith - Dancing in the Light
author commentKailashana2
Sun, 2011-07-17 08:37
On the contrary TR, though
On the contrary TR, though all your poems have a teaching aspect, and always point to a real slice of life, there seems to be, for me, very little in it that is poetic.... I don't exactly know how to fix that, but perhaps to show more of your heart than what you words say.
Maybe if you would write as an insider rather than an outsider...in the truest sense of life, we're all mocking birds until and unless we've seen, heard, felt, experienced life's vicissitudes for ourselves...and that always comes from an I/we positioning rather than a *you*.
Talk about your friend, loved one who is lying on that bed. Tell me how it feels, add another layer to your poems.
~A
t. reflexion
Mon, 2011-07-18 04:11
Your frankness is appreciated…
For the first time, you are honest with my scribbles. I don’t consider my self a poet yet, I am aspiring to be one for poetry is the height of intellectual expression. I am not there yet. I am a mere story teller. The pen name t. reflexion makes me an outsider, if you note, I only give my real name to those who ask – Iboro Offong. I am an outsider; I am not sitting in the row with the eminent. Thus, the style, the ‘you’ as noted by you, this allows me to enter into other people’s affairs without violating their sanctity.
Your comments are very dear to me, so I take a lesion and attempt to represent the same piece in a slightly different form by breaking them into smaller units, adding a word or two, to see if my way of presentation is what makes my parchments verbose. Your frank opinion, once again will be appreciated. Thank you and best wishes.
Tr
A MOCKING BIRD
The mocking howl
Of a lonely bird
Sitting on the tree branch
In the yard
The garden of life
Mimicking mama
Crying out her pains
Overtaken by bugs
And being alone
Arthritis and diabetics
Hypertension and rheumatism
Her companions in sorrows
Strange bedfellows now
Sickbed, her field of play
With excrement and urine
One room, the span
Her whole wide world
She was a woman
Who dared men
That pounced
On the helpless
And the weak
Men who crossed
Lines, long protected
By worthy women
And played soccer with guys
In novelty matches
She begged death
To come to her
But it peeped
From a corner
And teased sadistically
Then went to other folks
And mixes around
To take young people
In their prime
In and out of coma
She saw
The faceless death
Coming out of it
She labeled her visitors
With names of people
Long dead and gone
Then chatted closely
With the unseen spirits
Smiling back
She challenged the bird
Lamentations
Or moaning
Of an old woman have names
Hypoglycemia coma
With symptoms
Of psychotic dementia
On a referral
Mocking bird
Laughing at the aged
You seem not to know
Anything at all
Look around you
Life is not what it seems
Pray soberly
It does not come
To your doorsteps
A rekindled faith - Dancing in the Light
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