Foolish Monkey

Foolish Monkey
Location
MAGIC TOWN where the old never die, Connecticut,
Birthday
January 31
Bio
*************************** "I find that I am so excited I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain" -Red in The Shawshank Redemption by Stephen King *************************** WARNING: I like to noodle. can't resist. and once is never enough either. ***************************

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APRIL 2, 2012 11:40AM

she

Rate: 18 Flag

There was once a shaggy child who dreamed

 Of pink and white pinafores and

 Sweetly starched crinolines of another time

She cried too easily

Who made this annoying child?

Who could be a friend to her?

Such a scruffy thing with holes in her shoes

Square peasant hands

And far too angry

Speaking in tongues

Privy to cinemascopic visions of

Each and every lunatic angel

Was it a blessing she conjured her name from the wind?

What landscapes did she wander when she grew to be a woman a fury a bird a lover

Mother a woman whose mind drew blanks drew pictures grew tomatoes grew old

Not so old she resigned

No

Never that

She knows all mirrors are traps set for fools

And she is not broken yet

Not bent or beaten

With eyes like a hawk

Seeing through walls and floors and

Children love the child she is

Does anyone notice where she goes?

One curdled lumpy old

And alive

Stumbling along 

Kicking

Like a mule

Like the devil himself

That much I can tell you

 

 

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Comments

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No matter how sick I am or what goes on this is me..
Stumbling along

Kicking

Like a mule

That is all we can do.. hugggggggggggg
ah Linda,
Why am I not surprised by this? I know you do. Tenacious woman with a big heart. :)

I'm glad you enjoyed. I really liked writing this.
" a woman whose mind drew blanks drew pictures grew tomatoes grew old"
So much to admire here, in spirit and form and content. And I love the way it ends.
Thank you DS. I enjoyed writing it this morning. (and rewriting)
Perhaps still ... she ...
who conjured her name ...
from the wind ...
is ... the child who dreams ...
the child who sees ...
real ...
for what ...
and all ...
it ... is ...
can be ...
Some days one must kick like a mule just to get out of bed.
Such a wonderful poem, I was feeling every word.
rated with love
"She knows all mirrors are traps set for fools"
Ha! This line just jumped off the page at me.
The whole thing just makes me smile, Poet Monkey. xo
~r
Damn I needed this one dearest Monkey!!
Thanks a zillion.
Mules Unite!!
Kicking and screaming determined together to strive for better...
poetess, amen! thank you.

Joanie, it makes me happy to make you smile. :)

Mission, I'm with you, kicking and screaming to get this damned living RIGHT! for once!
Ahhh, I really like this. A lot.
R
good to know. one of us is ok..
"far too angry

Speaking in tongues

Privy to cinemascopic visions of

Each and every lunatic angel

Was it a blessing ?"
probably. i dunno. i am not a theologian.
grace seems to be the issue here anyway.........ha...
The child she is is beautiful. I love her, too.
I love this poem. I don't know you well enough and don't know if you like criticism, but I'll risk a faux pas because this is such good material. It needs work, paring down. It's about time, and pace is important. The beginning and the end should tie together more clearly. I'll send you a PM with what I mean.
"She knows all mirrors are traps set for fools

And she is not broken yet

Not bent or beaten"

I love it!!
"...resigned

No

Never that"

Your spirit is admirable, live on and live well.
R~