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the man beneath the lamppost



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299 Reviews



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Points: 24385
Reviews: 299
Sun Apr 29, 2018 12:30 am
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TheSilverFox says...



Poem 30

April 28th, 2018

bars

Spoiler! :
We (most of us)
muck around in our filth
like rats trapped in a gutter,
scrabbling and squealing
to push our frail little bodies
through the bars that leer at us
and block some (too many) of the stars.

We (most of us)
aren't going anywhere;
there's time enough
to roll around in puddles out of love,
throw ourselves in piles
of foul-smelling, cast-aside refuse,
and come out long enough
to stick out paws through the grating
and push our babies - children or art -
into the (too big) outside world we can barely see.

We (some of us)
never looked up, but turned
and followed the sewer lines,
leaping over chasms
and skittering in a maze in the distant hope
of finding a heaven,
because we would rather see the scene
than the picture of it,
no matter how much worse the risks are
(we hope it's worth it).
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
a persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma per ciò che giammai di questo fondo
non tornò vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero,
senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

Inferno, Canto 27, l 61-66.
  





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299 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 24385
Reviews: 299
Mon Apr 30, 2018 2:42 am
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TheSilverFox says...



Poem 31

April 29th, 2018

junshi

Spoiler! :
She opened a book, flipped to a page, and read,
"General Nogi Maresuke, losing his two sons -
and fifty thousand other fine men - at Port Arthur,
went to the Emperor and begged permission
to die, to escape the shame and criticism heaped on him
by those who thought of him as a butcher.
Mutsuhito - the Meiji Emperor - said no,
and that the general should live as long
as he did.

When the Emperor died, Nogi followed him."

I asked her what in the world she meant by that;
she looked me in the eyes and said, "if you jump,
you should never fear that you will go alone."
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
a persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma per ciò che giammai di questo fondo
non tornò vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero,
senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

Inferno, Canto 27, l 61-66.
  





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777 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 23593
Reviews: 777
Mon Apr 30, 2018 5:10 am
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alliyah says...



Congratulations on completing and surpassing NaPo Silver! :) I enjoy the diversity in the themes you've covered in your thread - everything from religion, war, family, seasons, medicine and everything in between. I liked how direct the emotions were expressed in "epa" and also the premise in this last poem is really intriguing - those last two lines are quite dramatic.

Well done! These were fun to read!
but i don't think i can ever love someone
who doesn't understand that teal
is a different color than
dark cyan.

  





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299 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 24385
Reviews: 299
Tue May 01, 2018 1:15 am
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TheSilverFox says...



Thanks, @alliyah and @Lumi and whoever else has been around, for reading! It's probably been my most successful NaPo so far - my love for writing poetry is making a comeback. But yeah, might as well end this thing:

Poem 32

April 30th, 2018

finale

Spoiler! :
rain steadily splatters on the sidewalk,
slipping between the cracks and seeping down
into the roots of the trees that gently sway,
spilling the petals of the flowers on him.

he comes here in the night sometimes, when he's sure
that nobody will be watching him, late as it is;
there's a light over his head, a jacket to keep him warm,
and a book clutched close to his chest.

he never spots the kid looking from a window
on the other side of the park, the kid who was afraid
the man was a monster that had come to take his soul,
but learned to hear the quiet beats of the man's quiet heart.

when the melody of the rain grows fainter,
and the drums in the distance stop thundering,
the kid glances out the window one more time, eyes half-closed,
to see the man flipping through another page.

the kid smiles and slips into his bedsheets.
the man's watch beeps - five seconds after midnight.
he closes his book, slips it into his jacket,
and leans against the post, humming to himself.

the man beneath the lamppost always feels alive
when he's alone.
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
a persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma per ciò che giammai di questo fondo
non tornò vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero,
senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

Inferno, Canto 27, l 61-66.
  








When I was young, I admired clever people. Now that I am old, I admire kind people.
— Abraham Heschel