one extrovert, terri, and one introvert, me

and good things happen, sparks fly

two introverts, colin and i, make for quiet days, up to a point

 

for the queen of risley hall




sitting in the sun after lunch

 

~

 

imagine a stop sign, says colin

i do

 

stop signs are red, he says

correct, say i

 

imagine the sky, says he

i do

 

the sky is blue, he says

correct, say i, but different shades of blue

 

correct, says colin

butter is green, he says

 

incorrect, i say

imagine green butter, says he

 

i do

triangles have four sides, he says

 

incorrect, say i

imagine a triangle with four sides, says he

 

~

 

it's nice sitting on the porch

seeing rows of vines

sloping downhill to the west

 

colin has been trimming vines

spring is here

 

i've been helping

we're taking a postprandial break

 

~

 

now you, he says

i sigh, and say, imagine a world where birds cannot fly

 

he nods

imagine a tennis ball that doesn't bounce, i say

 

okay, says he

imagine a tennis ball that is all green and all red, say i

 

good one, he says

imagine a duck that barks, i say

 

he snorts, enough, this horse is dead

agreed, say i

 

~

 

it isn't colin's job to trim vines

there are acres of them, he does it

for the sun on his back, for his fingers

in the dirt, for the sweat, for the thoughts

that accompany the work

 

my grandfather was a gardener

he died when i was little, i remember

him trimming dahlias—he did it 

for the pleasure, it's a trait i didn't inherit

 

i beg off, and colin is likely pleased

that he can work in peace, think his thoughts

 

off he goes, lithe colin in his element

and i in mine, i retrieve my sketch book

from my bedroom, settle comfortably

into the view, put pencil to paper, and behold

 

something from nothing—this is what i like

 

~

 

we're going dancing tonight

 

get this boy away from the city

and he blossoms like one of poppa's dahlias

 

imagine colin dancing

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 





Poetry by one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 880 times
Written on 2016-03-04 at 00:47

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All at Coo & Co are fond of such games as this. We like the setting too, the reminiscences, and the final striking simile. We would also like to know what you chose to sketch. 'Divulge!' commands Sage Coo, politely :>)
2016-06-03


Kathy Lockhart
This takes my breath away and yet gives me a breath of fresh air at the same green time. Imagine that! Love it!
2016-04-25


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Perambulating, Pony-style. This is a good poem up until the last line. Then, suddenly, it becomes great.
2016-03-05



This imagination game creates absurdities of course, but when applied to people, it highlights the interplay between the natural forces that act on them and the creative power of their own will and imagination--introverts, extroverts, Lynn trimming dahlias, Colin dancing--well, why not? I love the sense of creative possibility in this poem: "behold something from nothing." Your poems do have an intense peacefulness, even the darker ones. Someday I will read them all together and just feel peaceful and aware and full of drifting thoughts.
2016-03-04


Nancy Sikora
I love the imagination game, imagining is such fun and the more preposterous the better; it's a useful adjunct to repetitive tasks, like trimming vines (or doing the dishes.) But I'm not sure I can imagine colin dancing.

I love the poppa's dahlias metaphor, too.
2016-03-04



Did you sketch Colin's face? I think k I would have, if I could sketch.
Nice pace of quiet friendship. You write such peaceful poems that leave the reader pondering ... and there's always more to the poem. :-)
Ashe
2016-03-04


shells
I love the randomness of this, but then the second half is each settling into their own easiness, what did you sketch? enjoyed the completeness with the Colin thought at the end.
2016-03-04