poetry

not dostoevsky’s problem

Paper plates and plasticware...



    Of paper plates and plasticware,
An unwilling bachelor is unfrillingly made.
        Ramen, McIlhenny and expired milk;
    Half his bed is paved in unwrinkled silk,
A false-luxury he’s lavished upon himself.
    Most drawers empty, save one for skivvies,
        Another for unkemptly-paired socks;
            None for the tempt-privies of a warming soul—
    Those were interred in a Rubbermaid box.
Baton-twirling bunnies barred from the clocks,
    But one honeyless key for the locks;
        He talks, tongue-in-cheek, to himself—
Just banter-hope, like dust, on a sandbox-shelf.
            After one or four whisky-over-rocks,
        If the icebox needn’t a defrost again,
    He doesn’t waste a wonder-door on when
He’ll thunder once more into wildfire-frisky;
Rather, how lately-soon they’ll cart him off
    To earthen-kin, Leavenworth or the loony bin.
        He’s not Dostoevsky’s problem,
            But a simple southwest-boy
    Clutching a wilt-given, late-spring blossom,
          As likely to wake unto sun and joy
      As the depressingly play-dead possum—
              So still, though heart-piercingly alive.
          Oh, banshee, quiet the comb for a beehive,
    As he’s alive-inside as vivid could buzzingly seem
With the torrid dreams of a ridiculous man—
        A secretly felicitous, deliciously missed,
      Hardship-kissed, singularly solicitous man—
    Dismissed for an impatient can of wishes.
  But he’s fearless that love could fade away with him;
        For should it on a death’s too-reckless whim,
    His ghost would revisit to rake the feckless seeds
            And wraith-water them green again:
              Green-again and recanvassed in color-plural,
          An ungrey mural as to why we should never be—
      And never truly are—
        Alone in this ravaged, risk-managed,
  So-selfishly damaged, artless-want world.


Previous Post:
    Poetry: Chrysalis
        https://windstrewn.com/2020/07/20/chrysalis/


5 comments on “not dostoevsky’s problem

  1. Nice rhyming. And this is just badass:

    “His ghost would revisit to rake the feckless seeds
    And wraith-water them green again:”

    To “wraith-water” something green again. Wow!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. That music was heavenly and I went on a journey reading your poem to it. But it cut off with a minute or so left and now I don’t see it. Could you tell me who was the artist?

    Liked by 1 person

    • I love this song very much, as well…it’s a longtime favorite of mine. And I’m glad you asked! Because I always try to give credit in the tags for music that isn’t mine. But in the case of this post, it simply would not allow me to add that tag for some reason; I tried like 5 times! Very frustrating!

      Anyway, the original artist’s name is Patrick O’Hearn (perhaps the apostrophe was breaking the tag?). The name of the song is ‘Beyond This Moment’ on his So Flows The Current album from 2001. O’Hearn has been a staple in in the progressive instrumental/ambient music style since the 80s…to me, he’s been a stylistic inspiration and an absolute giant when it comes to ambient music.

      Like

  3. This is why people like you are a treasure, Sir. You with “Just banter-hope, like dust, on a sandbox-shelf”, show us how to look at a soul and melt together into the ocean of One Being.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’m near-certain, at times, I would trade my days of feeling inadequate, insignificant and insecure for more of the days of feeling as you’ve honored me…but then I have to wrestle back the wisdom that, at least in spirit, I’d be a few inches shorter without the challenge of everything I’ve crawled and grunted through. Fortunately, when those dim days come along (as they do and will for us all), my daughters are pretty good at wrenching my head out of my butt on a daily basis. Hard to feel small as their hearts lift me high. And, then, there are little shares like yours that give me a momentary mountain to stand atop…for that, I am deeply, genuinely grateful, Amaya. I wholeheartedly agree, especially in these starkly contentious and pride-contrasting times, that we simply need to care for, respect, affirm and sometimes carry one another. Thank you!

      Like

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