even the sunflowers too tired
to raise their heads
like exasperated mothers prone on the couch
with washcloths over their foreheads
you toss the wilted ones down
from the upstairs deck
rain of dragon teeth and yellow
bees wings
and I shortstop for Team Entropy
double-play them into the thicket
which season by season creeps us closer
like Birnam Wood towards Macbeth
such we play hot-potato
stalks held by rubber bands
for the end of the world gathered
in a slight bouquet
The Sunday Muse
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I love the metaphor of exasperated mothers! Your potent images in this are brilliant! Anyone who can put hot potatoes in a poem and get the message across so we’ll deserves a bravo!!! Love this Qbit!
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LOL!! Thanks!!
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I enjoyed the opening lines – one can feel the exhaustion of daily life. That hot potato game is a dangerous one, tossing it quickly before the music stops. Hopefully, the universe won’t shatter.
Who can command the forest and make the trees pull their roots
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“Who can command the forest and make the trees pull their roots” – Indeed!
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That beginning is right in the heart of the home and then that ending…it’s like a hearing chords and realizing the movie’s over and you missed it. Vivid from first to last.
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Thanks!
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A slight bouquet indeed.That seems to be the best we get at the moment. I love the opening image, the rain of dragon teeth and bees, and the playfulness that perhaps disguises something darker, like the mortality Blake saw in those swiveling heads. I had to preface my own poem with his, since I pilfered one of his lines, but his image haunts this particular force of nature. Great read, as always here.
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Thanks, as always.
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How WONDERFUL that opening stanza is. Bravo! I love this poem so much – I feel that exhaustion, can see the thicket creeping closer, and your closing lines are perfection.
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Much, much appreciated!
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I just knew you could work the ham-and-jam on the keystone pivot you old seamhead! Actually, though, it was your first and last stanza that I particularly loved. Well done indeed.
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Ahahaha! Fielded a line drive, so to speak!
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Each stanza in your poem elicited a different reaction in me … chuckled at the first remembering those washcloth days, felt despair in the second, thought I might play first base in the third and felt fear in the fourth.
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Great opening qbit, and I love the baseball references.
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Playing with the trash. I see squishy stuff on their bats and gloves.
A fun read.
..
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Love this from the opening. Life is as draining as a Houston August these days. I feel I would need to toss dry petals in the wind, because I haven’t the energy for anything else.
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Oh, myyyyy. I adore sunflowers, and there is too much to love here! Your many descriptions of the petals (I can see them in flight), the exasperated mothers visual. Fantastic.
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PS: It is still one squillion degrees in southern Nevada, so I can relate.
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Yes, and maybe the squillionness of it makes it more bearable.
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a one act play so visually drawn (I like the added touch of Macbeth)
“rain of dragon teeth and yellow
bees wings”
-wonderful!
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Thanks!!
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