poetry critical

online poetry workshop

The Beat Goes On

That is how it was.
Rosebud laminate hood of pram,
matches, moss lost to gutters,
murmuring girls, stand gauche among gardenia,
mother's gossip  floods across the fence,
the senseless mutter of ample others.
My ill informed ears seemed cauliflower patched,
paraded down allotments leased to space and thyme;
where father shook the soil from hatching plans,
miming Sinatra, coughing on catarrh and laughter.
Restrained inside my ready made life,
I listen for my softly strolling son.
His allotted space ablaze, my mind's asunder,
he runs amok through lightening rain and thunder,
leaving behind not one speck of dust,
much more than his song just sung.

28 Jun 08

Rated 9 (9.5) by 1 users.
Active (1):
Inactive (1): 9, 10

(define the words in this poem)
(954 more poems by this author)

Add A Comment:
Enter the following text to post as unknown: captcha


the last stanza is great as is the rest of it. i like mother's gossip flooding over the fence, very original.
 — raskolniikov

Dear raskilniikov

Thanks foe the very encouraging comment. Its really appreciated.

Larry groping in the dark lark
 — unknown

Interesting the way son becomes father observing his own son through a plethora of emotive imagery. Love the Sinatra line.
 — Leanan

I prefer Dean Davis Junior myself

Larry crooning Lark
 — larrylark