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The Ride

My son sits
under sunlit shade,
waiting for lift off,
to a place far beyond this flat day.
He views his watch,
an elastic clock stretched
across his wrist.
My day, like my ways,
is etched,immovable, static,
listlessly locked onto dull interludes,
seconds oozing through minutes
into lexicons beyond lands
of hope and despair.
I uncross my sciatic leg,
knowingly he rises from his chair,
floats beyond our front door to be driven.
I move cautiously through gears,
peering as he eases ahead,
glimpsed among distant rivers,
mountains and stars.

19 Aug 05

Rated 9 (9) by 1 users.
Active (1):
Inactive (2): 9, 9, 9

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I FUCKING LOVE THIS EVEN MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1
 — unknown

Even more than what?

Larry perplexed lark

PS thanks for a capital crit. :)
 — unknown

another pretty poem by larry pretty vacant lark.(9)
 — lonelygirl

Beautiful stuff, Larry.
You missed a space in 9.
I'm still pondering the apparent contradiction of sunlit shade.  Don't tell me.  I'll get it eventually.
I'm not sure about 11...I've seen similar treatments of slow time.
In 19, glimpsed does not match the tense of the rest of the verbs.
 — housepoppy

Dear Lonely girl

I'm so pleased you like my pretty poems and as i am going through something of a mental trough at the moment they will probably get even prettier. Only when i am bursting with elation at the truely wonderful beauty of life can i write truly ugly poetry.

Fond regards

 — larrylark

Larry, this is beautiful. Your words are original and the poem is inspiring with its imagery.
L19, glimpsing
 — marieF

interesting journey you take us on here Larry - of age and youth and father and son - of love and ultimately hope for a future - what ever may come

though you imply the static pause in your sons life at the beginning, this is a fluid moving piece - you suggest hinderance and diluted energy of your years - and time as imagery stills and wildly long pauses between moments -yet your imagery speaks of a mind capturing the essense of moments with precision and cogniscense

may i ask where you were driving your son to?

good stuff Larry 'give us a lift' Lark
 — Mongrol