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The Musical narative of our lives from Birth to Death

Poetry By: donkylemore
Classics


some scatological piece i wrote 20 yrs ago.
just found it and decided to post it as is.
there is a format - scheme behind this believe it or not .
but i decided just to leave it for now


Submitted:Feb 12, 2009    Reads: 108    Comments: 1    Likes: 2   


When life comes first
It comes frail
And each in our fumbling
Fragile way
With chubby fingers
Pluck on life's nubile lyre ;
And with startled amaze
Play the tuneless mastespiece we made.

The tiny mind is soothed
In long slumbers , to peruse
The myriad shapes and sounds
Of each and every hour
And each eternal day.
Roaming in celestial twylight
Cocooned in a universal universe
In swathes of infantile oblivion

When infant's wandering
Blabbering thoughts
Bbble gaily
Like the babbling brook

So soon the stream of life
Perverts , diverts
So soon the unflawed skin
Of youth blemished
Pockmarked pimpleoid
Defiant ; rebellious
Fist clenched
Strikes fierce discordant
Derisive notes
The angered storm of brooding adolescence

The stream of life
Thrown into a crazed turbulence
Thrashing with unbridled exuberance
The antherm of perennial protest
Coined by peripatetic poets
On turbo charged guitars
The urgent anthem of the unarticulated.

When cascading waters
Spent ; drift to dep
And darker pools
When lines of life
Are scored on unfresh face
When bags beneath the eyes betray
Sins committed
Love unrequited
For tranquil tune
We pray lifes harp to play
A song to lift dark desperate mood
To mollify the morbid fear
Regret remorse
At spentthrift years
Which never will rcur
There is no action replay button here
And wasted utterly are the tears

When life's long stream
Slows at life's coastal estuarine
And the heart hears the ratltle
Of the rocks on the dragging tide

Its altered face has changed pace
Its death dirge now begins to drone
In salutation.

The dulcimer plays the lonesome lament
While pallbearers on the rolling tide
Disperse the final drop of mountain dew
Into the universal seas
Whence it came and now returns

Till anew it begins its incarnation
And soft cumulous clouds
Embrace her
Carry her once more
To condencation
On blackā‚¬ stonre hills
Where once more the trickle stream
She fills.





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