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Q
Quillsvein1
Jan 03, 2009 ⭐ View statistics (Premium feature)

A Mirror For the Man On the Bench *prose poem*

The man with a Vietnam Veteran's jacket might have been home.  Here he is, green continents divided against a mahogany bench.  His mustache peeks up like a catcus briar patch inquiring. Take a look.  Wounded or not by napalm or diesel, he has a glass eye filled with mercury. As he stares into the moon, you hit him. Crows and infected eyes plead sudden flight. Ruffling branches.  Each has a beaded eye, mercurial you notice--until you start fighting. He is no longer there.  Just like Vietnam.

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RSScheerer

RSScheerer

17 years 4 months ago

After reading multiple times

I am still not certain what I want to say about this piece. The metaphors are powerful, as is that final line. I feel like I have no useful advice for this one, for some reason. I think because it leaves me feeling hollow. Not very helpful, I know! Best ~ Ronda
Rett

Rett

17 years 4 months ago

As Ronda said

great images here, but somehow I cannot fathom the meaning. Possibly a dream or flashback? Sorry I can't be more helpful. Respectfully, Rett: "Next time you think you're perfect, walk on water."
Q

Quillsvein1

17 years 4 months ago

this

is more of me having fun with surrealism kind of and making an analogy to vietnam in the process--you are both definitely right. i produced it in a sort of dreamy state, i had to write it down. if honest people like yourselves were not on neopoet, it would be a futile enterprise. thank you! GB