Because we all want to write more poems.
Steven’s Quotidian Rhyme
When my brother
Delivers the fruit
That ripens
All at once on the
Trees in his yard
He recites a poem
Of his own invention
Figs! Figs!
Figs by the score!
Figs! Figs!
Figs galore!
Because he is
My brother and
Because he is autistic and
Because embarassment
Comes so naturally to
Me with him
I roll my eyes
Limes! Limes!
Limes by the score!
Limes! Limes!
Limes galore!
Only much later
Do I notice the
Simple practicality of
His verse
Practical as our
Father was practical
Plums! Plums!
Plums by the score!
Plums! Plums!
Plums galore!
And when he arrives
On my doorstep with
An old grocery bag
Full of fresh harvest
With a poem on his
Lips and a twinkle in
His eyes he also
Reminds me of my
Mother who understood
That food is love
- Michael Mayhew's Shared Poems
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Comments
Neil McKay
November 14, 2012
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beautiful poem
Simple, honest and layered. It made me smile.
Benjamin Gorman
November 14, 2012
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Score!
Score with the fruit delivery and score with the pome. I'm partial (not in an exclusive way) to visually balanced pomes like this; and which possess a cadence, here provided by the metrical poetic interjections. Very satisfying to read something the wraps up so well.
Clayton Medeiros
November 14, 2012
Permalink
Well said
The poems within the poem were very effective against the visual, tactile sense of the other stanzas.
Michael Mayhew
November 15, 2012
Permalink
Thanks All
I'm finding the exercise of trying to write poetry regularly very interesting because it makes me look at the world a little differently. Sometimes just driving my car I'll have a chain of thoughts that runs thus: "I haven't written a poem in a while...because there's nothing to write about...well, what happened today...?" and often enough that little bit of review will turn up at least some small thing that might serve as a beginning.
This was one of those.