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The rock
The rock
There's a large rock in a field,
the farmer could remove it,
gain a little more profit
from the extra seeds...but he doesn't.
He wastes time working around it,
spends a little more on diesel
and each time he navigates around it
his harvester wears down more than his neighbour's.
Stand on top of it
and scan the surrounding landscape...what do you see?
Pristine fields...not another rock in sight!
Time hasn't softened it.
It's a jagged thing, most think it ugly,
but you'll often find him leaning against it
or from a distance, gazing upon it.
Is it respect, a reminder
of the blood, sweat and tears his forefathers spent
removing stones to create a field good enough
to feed their families?
It's that...but much more.
He has of course pissed behind it,
isn't that one of the reasons God created big rocks.
He's cried desolate tears behind it
when young girls broke his heart,
or when God took yet another of his family
and he was too shy to cry in public.
It was a shield when shame embarrassed him,
every fold of it was as familiar
as the callouses on his hands.
And when he discovered 'the one'
it became their meeting place.
Every Summer wheat's gentle caress
encircles it,
when Autumn comes
and the surrounding fields disrespect nature
with unnatural parallel lines,
his curve beautiful around it
in sensual brush strokes.
It punctuates his life,
stamps his lineage on the land,
it's an anchor and a reminder, that
only on reflection
do we see where the real obstacles lie.
I've been asked to recite a poem at a friend's book launch in October...'Discover your Inner GPS'
It's an interesting read. She 'died' for 20 minutes during the birth of one of her children and is now a life coach, among other things.
She's a lovely person...don't know if asking Dr. Death to write a poem for the occasion was a good call though
This is my first effort, and she hasn't read it yet.
the farmer could remove it,
gain a little more profit
from the extra seeds...but he doesn't.
He wastes time working around it,
spends a little more on diesel
and each time he navigates around it
his harvester wears down more than his neighbour's.
Stand on top of it
and scan the surrounding landscape...what do you see?
Pristine fields...not another rock in sight!
Time hasn't softened it.
It's a jagged thing, most think it ugly,
but you'll often find him leaning against it
or from a distance, gazing upon it.
Is it respect, a reminder
of the blood, sweat and tears his forefathers spent
removing stones to create a field good enough
to feed their families?
It's that...but much more.
He has of course pissed behind it,
isn't that one of the reasons God created big rocks.
He's cried desolate tears behind it
when young girls broke his heart,
or when God took yet another of his family
and he was too shy to cry in public.
It was a shield when shame embarrassed him,
every fold of it was as familiar
as the callouses on his hands.
And when he discovered 'the one'
it became their meeting place.
Every Summer wheat's gentle caress
encircles it,
when Autumn comes
and the surrounding fields disrespect nature
with unnatural parallel lines,
his curve beautiful around it
in sensual brush strokes.
It punctuates his life,
stamps his lineage on the land,
it's an anchor and a reminder, that
only on reflection
do we see where the real obstacles lie.
I've been asked to recite a poem at a friend's book launch in October...'Discover your Inner GPS'
It's an interesting read. She 'died' for 20 minutes during the birth of one of her children and is now a life coach, among other things.
She's a lovely person...don't know if asking Dr. Death to write a poem for the occasion was a good call though
This is my first effort, and she hasn't read it yet.
Re: The rock
Colm, for what it's worth from this poetic newbie, this is a beautiful and passionate bit of writing, about living against the odds, treasuring the past and of being rock-solidly grounded in the now. I love it - wish like crazy I could write like that.
I suspect your book launching friend will be delighted with it.
Aj
I suspect your book launching friend will be delighted with it.
Aj
Re: The rock
Thanks aj
She has now read the poem and is quite happy with it
She has now read the poem and is quite happy with it
Re: The rock
Life's "obstacles" teach us so much and end up enriching our lives if we do not despair. Lovely analogy, wonderful imagery, honesty and humility in this one Colm. Bravo.
Re: The rock
Thanks L...glad you approve.
It's slightly 'plumped out' for the recital...but hey!
It's slightly 'plumped out' for the recital...but hey!
Re: The rock
Good one Colm. I can see what you mean by 'plumped' out, but essentially there is plenty in there for those listening to connect with.
young girls - not sure if 'young' is needed there, implied with girls, and perhaps it sends the wrong message in these abusive times?
cheers
Phil
young girls - not sure if 'young' is needed there, implied with girls, and perhaps it sends the wrong message in these abusive times?
This section felt less grounded than the rest, but that could be me (do you need gentle?)Every Summer wheat's gentle caress
encircles it,
when Autumn comes
and the surrounding fields disrespect nature
with unnatural parallel lines,
his curve beautiful around it
in sensual brush strokes.
Just a thought. Another one is that 'it' appears a lot through the write and therefore using' rock' more often may be an option.and he was too acting the man to cry in public.
cheers
Phil
Colm Roe wrote: ↑Sun Aug 11, 2019 6:45 pmThere's a large rock in a field,
the farmer could remove it,
gain a little more profit
from the extra seeds...but he doesn't.
He wastes time working around it,
spends a little more on diesel
and each time he navigates around it
his harvester wears down more than his neighbour's.
Stand on top of it
and scan the surrounding landscape...what do you see?
Pristine fields...not another rock in sight!
Time hasn't softened it.
It's a jagged thing, most think it ugly,
but you'll often find him leaning against it
or from a distance, gazing upon it.
Is it respect, a reminder
of the blood, sweat and tears his forefathers spent
removing stones to create a field good enough
to feed their families?
It's that...but much more.
He has of course pissed behind it,
isn't that one of the reasons God created big rocks.
He's cried desolate tears behind it
when young girls broke his heart,
or when God took yet another of his family
and he was too shy to cry in public.
It was a shield when shame embarrassed him,
every fold of it was as familiar
as the callouses on his hands.
And when he discovered 'the one'
it became their meeting place.
Every Summer wheat's gentle caress
encircles it,
when Autumn comes
and the surrounding fields disrespect nature
with unnatural parallel lines,
his curve beautiful around it
in sensual brush strokes.
It punctuates his life,
stamps his lineage on the land,
it's an anchor and a reminder, that
only on reflection
do we see where the real obstacles lie.
I've been asked to recite a poem at a friend's book launch in October...'Discover your Inner GPS'
It's an interesting read. She 'died' for 20 minutes during the birth of one of her children and is now a life coach, among other things.
She's a lovely person...don't know if asking Dr. Death to write a poem for the occasion was a good call though
This is my first effort, and she hasn't read it yet.
Re: The rock
Thanks Matty.
Some valid comments
Some valid comments
Re: The rock
Colm,
I'm a bit late to the party, but I really like this. It seems to me that you have quietly imbued the rock with a kind of personality, rather like the way Jack London made weather conditions and terrain into active players in his tales of the frozen north.
Minor nit pick. Shouldn't there be a question mark after this... isn't that one of the reasons God created big rocks.
Mind you, people would hear it in a reading even it's missing from the paper.
Gyppo
I'm a bit late to the party, but I really like this. It seems to me that you have quietly imbued the rock with a kind of personality, rather like the way Jack London made weather conditions and terrain into active players in his tales of the frozen north.
Minor nit pick. Shouldn't there be a question mark after this... isn't that one of the reasons God created big rocks.
Mind you, people would hear it in a reading even it's missing from the paper.
Gyppo
I've been writing ever since I realised I could. Storytelling since I started talking. Poetry however comes and goes
Re: The rock
Hi Gyppo,
Thanks for your approval
I (probably) mistakenly left the ? out...but google (search long enough and you'll find someone who'll tell you that you're right) was there to the rescue It seems rhetorical questions can end with
?, ! or just a full stop; it depends on your intent.
On the accuracy of information, I came a fab quote from an author (Sue Grafton) when asked how accurate a fact in her book was, her reply, 'I know it's true, because I made it up myself.'
Thanks for your approval
I (probably) mistakenly left the ? out...but google (search long enough and you'll find someone who'll tell you that you're right) was there to the rescue It seems rhetorical questions can end with
?, ! or just a full stop; it depends on your intent.
On the accuracy of information, I came a fab quote from an author (Sue Grafton) when asked how accurate a fact in her book was, her reply, 'I know it's true, because I made it up myself.'
Re: The rock
Is the he in "God created big rocks.
He's cried desolate tears behind it
when young girls broke his heart," --> the farmer or God?
He's cried desolate tears behind it
when young girls broke his heart," --> the farmer or God?