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Runners
| Open Poetry #48 |
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Runners |
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ice Member Elite
since 2003-05-17
Posts 3404Pennsylvania |
Note: After reading Nicole's excellent poem ("Leap") I thought of this poem I wrote for a challenege. I thought I posted it here before, but could not find it in the "search" thingy. If I did, I will erase it, not wanting to be duplicating. It might be rejected anyway by the moderators, and sent to insights, where it will be never read. *************************************************  "I don't even know what I was running for - I guess I just felt like it." ~J.D. Salinger, from "The Catcher in the Rye" * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * We were runners toward life Reveling in daedal plots Of unshocked grain--rye heads uncut; Short sighted frolickers Giving the finger to a world That saw us as sheaves to bring in A world that stomped our spirits in the dirt Because the harvest that was us, Was growing on elysian fields, And we had no fear of cliffs. I worried all of my gains away Nothing seemed to last but chaff and stem; Because the catchers teeth made pulpy grist Of my immature displays; They surely thought would be my only yield, So I stayed shy of girls, and their Demeter breasts Which made my guides relax their frowns; They loved the reluctance that held me back From falling off the edge of the field, Into a pit of lust, and out-of marriage sex. At parties, I loved the bevies As soon as I saw them gathered, Even The awkward--pimply ones, All of them in different states of ripening Dancing with each-other to Fabian and Elvis; But I never made approach. It's not like they were the enemy, or something It's just that the blood in my veins Was made yellow by warnings Of principals and parents, So I lived the lie, by acting cool And pretended I wasn't a coward. That race went on through fields All harvested in their time; The sun of passing days dried tears of angst That fell in rains of guilt, and shame- Instilled by punishing chaperones That tried to guard my growing self From things I loved the most, By consternated means, and ways. |
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
A perfect description of angst to the nth, Ice. The propaganda which led many a lad (I was one, but I had other evil influences) to look the other way when a girl caught our eye, was horribly misinformed. "So I lived the lie, by acting cool And pretended I wasn't a coward. " Yes we did. ~*~ If they give you lined paper, write sideways. ~*~ |
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splashMeadow Junior Member
since 2011-06-09
Posts 20UK |
Here the Rye field is an excellent metaphor for the transitions and decisions of youth. "All of them in different states of ripening." Through the Angst of teens and the harvests since, there it is still... the wild pace and energy of youth still very much evident in the rhythm of very fine poetry. Wonderful to read! :-) [This message has been edited by splashMeadow (02-23-2012 04:14 PM).] |
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jwesley Member Rara Avis
since 2000-04-30
Posts 7563Spring, Texas |
one of the things I see in the mirror that I wish could have been different - but upon Reflection, not sure I would change a thing. Awesome, my friend. j. |
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Nicole Senior Member
since 1999-06-23
Posts 1835Florida |
I'm so glad you posted this. That race went on through fields All harvested in their time; The sun of passing days dried tears of angst That fell in rains of guilt, and shame- Instilled by punishing chaperones That tried to guard my growing self From things I loved the most, By consternated means, and ways. This is what makes me cringe; and that grips a part of my own belly. As an adult, now... it pains me to see the 'guilt and shame' that is lavished so thickly on youth for the sake of pushing them in certain directions. It's almost as if one can keep a child from certain things, then they don't have to messy their hands with the aftermath. Now that I'm a parent, I can see how appealing that is for an adult. But... what drives me more is the desire to make my children strong, and proud, and capable. Not stunting their growth and giving them insecurities. Sorry, little wordy there... I think we all live a lie, to start out with. We have to - our parents, our guardians, we live for their purposes; since they control everything. And bestowing knowledge and freedoms along the way. There is always that pivotal point in a youth's life where they realize, that it is THEIR life, and then they take it. Again, I'm really glad you posted this. I thoroughly enjoyed it.  |
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tracie66 Member Elite
since 2000-01-18
Posts 4713Australia |
well done, a little inspiration always goes along way, I think that this place definitely breeds it. Love this! Love is the life of the soul... |
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bel1e Senior Member
since 2006-07-24
Posts 1631 |
Confessions of an Icy teenage heart! Wow~~have to admit this was a gripping read...hindsight is always 20/20...and no one, I guess, is immune from the "mother Knows Best" influences we grow up with...however that may be defined... Thanks for sharing this glimpse into your internal clockwork~*~* ~Write On~*~ XOXO |
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suthern
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723Louisiana |
A world that stomped our spirits in the dirt Because the harvest that was us, Was growing on elysian fields, And we had no fear of cliffs. Some have no fear of consequences and others have nothing but... and results of that conflict can go far beyond what was intended. There has to be a balance between guarding & guiding... and grinding the life out of someone else. *S* Excellent write! |
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ice Member Elite
since 2003-05-17
Posts 3404Pennsylvania |
Jerry Splash jimwesly NIcole Tracie Bel1e Suthern Thank you for the understanding I feel in these replies. It means a lot, as you all know...these kind make a writer feel good --worded thusly....they encourage us to continue to write. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I read this days ago, and viola, am still here to read. The catechisms and mantras we were taught, we left many and most behind the curbs of our youth, Ford. Yet, like any good rye patch, they may still stick to a good young person's bluejeans, come what may. I know. I live in an area, like yourself, like many of us live, where there is still substance of youth. |
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