American boy stands centre of small holding,
Hampshire England, bought by father,
given to son - objecting to the draft.
He sings, laughing, buries thin fingers,
imitating toil, bringing soil stained new potatoes
into the old world. Sir Walter Raleigh
sails past bottom of plot, cursing bomber command
as they fly in clusters, firing traces
over rice fields of a distant land.
29 Jul 05
Rated 8 (8.5) by 1 users.
Active (1): 8
Inactive (3): 8, 9, 10
(define the words in this poem)
(775 more poems by this author)
Add A Comment:
Lack of punctuation in places actually adds to the depth, I think. It's breathy, like lack of oxygen high in the air as opposed to the ground and the old, family soil.
I'll never get punctuation but then neither do a lot of published poets who have to have editors tooth comb their work but you are confusing me now,lack of punctuation makes it better.and i would never have made the oxygen connection.Thanks as always for your penetrative analysis.
it's good to lack punctuation?
Probably not on a regular basis
this sound as it is written from some sort of experience and seems to be exploring the tensions between the old and the new world, very striking imagery. A thought provoking poem, with effective use of historical character.
It Isn't Entirely, then ;)
The birth of potatoes. NICE.
I love stuff like this. 9
I think its how you feel it but when feeling fly all over the place and appear as words on a page then they need punctuating or should that read puncturing
I saw the first comments; your punctuation as alwasy, suck. :)
But I just want to say that the title and the last line stitch this up together quite nicely; good job.