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Inquisitive Boy
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Inquisitive Boy |
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Local Parasite
since 2001-11-05
Posts 2527Transylconia, Winnipeg 
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Hold steady thy ears, that I grant thee a tale Hardly tale, neither fiction nor story Of a child in the woods, and a watering-pail That held innocence bound in its glory. Twas a love that had flourish'd in beauty and truth In the winter of five-sixty-one Of two lovers, adjoin'd in the crimson of youth Where, in copulence, life would be spun. While a miracle, bless'd are the young who abstain From the pleasures of lovers combined So her body was cloak'd from the eyes of the swain That suspicion not tend to his mind. For her lover, he knew, and he long'd for the touch Of her bodily tissues to his But too young to be father, and simple, as such What a shame, our fertility is. Though perhaps, were she built of more notable girth T'would be less of an obvious ailing Nay, she fled from her love to the ends of the earth That he not catch her myst'ry in failing. And he ran to the city, in passion'd pursuit Thinking well what misfortune ail'd she, But the buds of his search would bear nothing of fruit What a sorrowful being, grew he. And with sun ever-setting, and search ever-flaw'd He collaps'd in a slump, in the street At the tip of his breath, with a foot weary-trod The young fellow admitted defeat. Bitten cruelly by love, and with visions all tatter'd He breathed, that he scream out her name But so sweet to his ear, all the silence was shatter'd When his was emitted, in same. Coulds't thou see it thyself, thou woulds't faintly believe With what vigor he shot to his stance And perus'd all the street, on that shadowy eve All with sureness awake in his glance. Once arrived at the source, he advanced himself through As the fruits of her illness were lifted He look'd back to her eyes, in apology true As "I love you" was utter'd, she drifted. And it raptur'd the man, as those innocent eyes Were cast backward, again ne'er to pain her Still he could not return that last smile she surmis'd With the shame that his lovings had slain her. Were it not for the cries of the child they had bore He'd have dropt, and sent cries of his own But to look o'er the face of that beast of adore Rest assur'd him, he'd ne'er be alone. He declar'd to the gathering, "I claim this child" With disdain and sincerity parch So sincerely and sudden his mourning beguiled He neglected the funeral march. Without tears of regret, he brought homeward his son To the cabin, for love he'd secured And they grew there, for fourteen a merciless sun For fourteen such sunlight obscured. He the gath'rer of meat, and his son, that of water Each task, they endeavour'd with joy Fill'd with questions, the younger -- in laughter, his father Declar'd him "inquisitive boy." My dear reader, if I spoke of musings and tales I'd be tempted gay endings, conclude - But alas, were the story of watering-pails I'd have nothing for ballads accrued. It is sad, such a love amongst father and son I decree to be precious and rare And tis tragic, this innocence, scarcely begun That a battle t'ween strangers did tear. Up the hill t'wards the cabin, with water at side And a smile of expectance at lip On that day, he was welcom'd by furious pride That, from treetop to treetop, did flip. It was wond'rous to him, that his cabin lay sore As though shatter'd, an object of bother In a rush of those vandalous wagers of war And an arrow had pierc'd through his father. In the embers of what was once mellow and green Lay his mentor, in mortal collapse And he dropt all his water, and rush'd to the scene 'Fore his father, to darkness was laps'd. There he knelt in a state of bewilderment, shock'd All such tragedies, all but unknown Like a child, he cradled his father, and rock'd Him to lullaby, still as a stone. And the man was reviv'd, for an instant of life That he gaze 'pon the face of his child He said once, "worry not, I will rest with my wife" And submitting to darkness, he smiled. Knowing well what was taught, most important to he Was to love, and spread love as he could That inquisitive boy, thinking promise to be Then departed the smoldering wood. Pressing forth, he abandon'd the flickering wild And thought not of his grievings to grieve T'was a gift to the world, this misfortunate child That was born on that shadowy eve. [This message has been edited by Local Parasite (12-15-2002 03:29 AM).] |
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| © Copyright 2002 Brian James Lee - All Rights Reserved | |||
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knightlyshadows Senior Member
since 2001-04-14
Posts 791obscured vision |
This was a sad, sad piece Brian. But one that you wrote very well. Lovely story you've told dear. I loved this: quote: Everyone deserves a love like that. yesh ^^ “A single choice can build destinies, or destroy them.” |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
You make me read, think and feel. Some are only capable of two. I loved this long thing.  Now let's get poets back here again!Mike |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Lookie what the moth found while looking thru back pages for buried treasure. T'was a gift to the world, this misfortunate child That was born on that shadowy eve. ================================= As is the day this poet was born   |
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Local Parasite
since 2001-11-05
Posts 2527Transylconia, Winnipeg |
arrrghhh...... why'd you have to pull this up?  Only an evil moth like you would drag back my less than favourites from their deep hideaways...  Well, guess what, I'm gonna write something decent soon, trust me... |
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ESP Member Elite
since 2000-01-25
Posts 2556Floating gently on a cloud.... |
What, this isn't decent? I loved it I really really enjoyed it...was thinking that you will probably be in modern poetry anthologies before long, of the Norton variety... This one seemed so smooth and flowing that it felt like treading water in the sea, when the waves bob you up and down and up and down and....just so gently.... I'll shut up now! Luv, Liz xxx "Gorge the honey from life, and live through the stomach aches knowing they will pass..." ~Liz Pinard 2003~ |
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Janet Marie Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554 |
Twas a love that had flourish'd in beauty and truth In the winter of five-sixty-one Of two lovers, adjoin'd in the crimson of youth Where, in copulence, life would be spun. While a miracle, bless'd are the young who abstain From the pleasures of lovers combined So her body was cloak'd from the eyes of the swain That suspicion not tend to his mind. For her lover, he knew, and he long'd for the touch Of her bodily tissues to his But too young to be father, and simple, as such What a shame, our fertility is. =========================== Bitten cruelly by love, and with visions all tatter'd He breathed, that he scream out her name But so sweet to his ear, all the silence was shatter'd When his was emitted, in same. Coulds't thou see it thyself, thou woulds't faintly believe With what vigor he shot to his stance And perus'd all the street, on that shadowy eve All with sureness awake in his glance. Once arrived at the source, he advanced himself through As the fruits of her illness were lifted He look'd back to her eyes, in apology true As "I love you" was utter'd, she drifted. And it raptur'd the man, as those innocent eyes Were cast backward, again ne'er to pain her Still he could not return that last smile she surmis'd With the shame that his lovings had slain her. Were it not for the cries of the child they had bore He'd have dropt, and sent cries of his own But to look o'er the face of that beast of adore Rest assur'd him, he'd ne'er be alone. ============================== Evil moth??? no no no.... moth in worship See this one thru my eyes and then you will realize. Yes, I know...we never like going back and looking at our older stuff...but this ones a beauty of rhyme divine and deserves it credit due. Its my job you know So the moth (not so patiently) awaits for your next offering.  |
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LoveBug
Moderator
Member Elite
since 2000-01-08
Posts 4697 |
What a good thing to read on Father's day... What a beautiful story! I really love how you tell this.. I love the point as well, that every life is important and is a positive addition to the world, even if it isn't always planned, wanted, or perfect! Oh, make me Thine forever |
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Allysa
since 1999-11-09
Posts 1952In an upside-down garden |
Your critique message simply says to think aloud, so I am going to try to do that. First of all... in the first stanza, I enjoy the enticement. "Hold steady thy ears, that I grant thee a tale" this line reminds me of a storyteller grabbing the attention of small children and for some reason makes me think of pirates. I also like the part that says "neither fiction nor story" because it is a different way of saying something is not fiction, but it's not fact without actually saying neither fiction nor fact. I feel the fiction nor fact thing gets repetative and you did a good job of not doing that. In the second stanza, I like the last two lines bunches. I don't know why exactly, I just like the flow of the words and what not. I love the next five stanzas... and I absolutely adore the "Bitten cruelly by love" stanza, I believe it's one of my favorites in this piece. I also like the lines "He look'd back to her eyes, in apology true As "I love you" was utter'd, she drifted." This reply is getting rather boring, isn't it? I'll be back later.. All in all... I absolutely loved this. |
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