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Open Poetry #33
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Pigeon Food
| Open Poetry #33 |
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Pigeon Food |
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James_A_Fraser Senior Member
since 2003-09-03
Posts 972Out Making Anticlines |
Pigeon Food The burn’s nearly healed, as much as it will anyway; the scab itches like hell wanting to come off. Been a while, I thought you knew. No, my own fault I guess, I knew that tailpipe was hot, should have let it cool before I crawled under there. Or maybe I shouldn’t have tried to be a mechanic at all. You know what else I’m hurting from, I won’t talk about it. Rather not if that's ok. Wouldn’t do any good and it’s the same story as this anyhow. That’s itching too, yes like hell. If I scratch, it’ll bleed, maybe get bad again, never get well. I ought to let it finish scarring. But why should you care? My scar, my blood, my reckoning. Why did I do that? Because I could, And for the sheer pleasure of watching these pigeons eat it. |
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| © Copyright 2004 James A. Fraser - All Rights Reserved | |||
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DavePage Member Elite
since 2003-12-21
Posts 2917 |
James I may or may nor understand the meaning of your words but as words go they're good Dave |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Jamie It hurts to read this too.  |
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Susan Member Ascendant
since 2004-03-27
Posts 5104walking the surreal |
Hmmmm - I too do not understand fully where this is meant to take me, but it transcends the logical with its ache, and with that it delivers a punch. Susan Happiness isn't something that happens to you, it's created from within you. Joy is a state of mind. |
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jwesley Member Rara Avis
since 2000-04-30
Posts 7563Spring, Texas |
Seagulls are voracious eaters james and take much bigger pieces if offered - clears the scars a lot quicker... extremely well written - uniquely done. thanks for the read... jimmy |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
 A heartache of a write. Dove bait? |
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suthern
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723Louisiana |
You know what else I’m hurting from, I won’t talk about it. Rather not if that's ok. Wouldn’t do any good and it’s the same story as this anyhow. This entire poem leaves me sad... and wishing I could give you a hug... both in comfort and in appreciation for the powerful images you've given us here. *S* These lines touch me deeply... for what hurts most is that resignation of knowing that what we'd rather really doesn't matter... not when they know and choose to continue inflicting the pain anyway, talking or not. That’s itching too, yes like hell. If I scratch, it’ll bleed, maybe get bad again, never get well. I ought to let it finish scarring. But why should you care? My scar, my blood, my reckoning. And yet... felt by us all. *S* Excellent write!!! |
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