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Sunday morning
by Allan HaslindsWorn-leather shoes slide on, a hat settles at a solid angle.
Pushing aside the dull metal of a too-light screen door,
I go tripple-bippling down unpainted steps
into the yellow and blue of the morning.
Flecks of the lane leap adventurously skyward,
carried aloft by caprious gusps--earthbound no longer,
only to be faithlessly abandoned
upon rails of fences, brims of hats, and the bridge of my nose.
Tiny jewels of perspiration become smears of bourbon-coloured ink,
sloo-boozing slowly down my cheek and brow,
blooming into dirty beige clouds on my white collar,
like coastlines on some long-dead explorer's map.
The smooth warm leathers of my soles
know the way, shubuffling along the quarter mile,
guided along by rich peals of a ripe bell,
no one ever needed a map to find this House. 04/08/2003 Author's Note: If you only knew how ironic...
Posted on 04/08/2003
Copyright © 2024 Allan Haslinds
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Thomas K. Hunt on 04/08/03 at 04:51 PM this is outstanding...I see it as waking on a Sunday morn after a night of maybe having to much to drink, pulling youself together and walking to church......the imagery is wonderful |
| Posted by Anne Engelen on 04/08/03 at 08:24 PM it seems like it's rather tough waking up on Sunday Morning, but on auto-pilot you just finish the weekly routine. |
| Posted by Kate Demeree on 04/08/03 at 10:30 PM To me.... it sounds as if, you know the way home, blindfolded. Several of the immages brought to mind a beloved friend... and priest. |
| Posted by Stephanie Kent on 04/14/03 at 06:57 PM Tis is wonderful. Your imagery is incredible...I like the fact that you make up words! |
| Posted by Ginette T Belle on 04/15/03 at 07:52 PM warm and comfy...it feels good... |
| Posted by Leonard M Hawkes on 04/17/03 at 04:16 AM Wonderful work--it makes me curious. You write very well--moving images, well constructed, not overdone. |
| Posted by Maryellen Lebeda-Parra on 04/17/03 at 03:20 PM thoroughly enjoyable read ... i liked this a lot. it is very comfortable. |
| Posted by Rommel Cruz on 04/25/03 at 05:04 AM sometimes i wonder how i went throught the day without knowing what i was doing. lol. maybe anne is right, autopilot just kicks in. |
| Posted by Alex Smyth on 05/14/03 at 02:18 AM Reprobate Soul? Have you ever heard "Sunday Mornin Sidewalk" by Kris Kristofferson? Reminds me of the same feel. Your descriptives evoke a shabby comfortableness, like old leather shoes... |
| Posted by Jeanne Marie Hoffman on 07/17/03 at 04:37 AM I posted in the poetry clinic on this, but I just wanted to reaffirm that I really like this poem. I especially like this line: "I go tripple-bippling down unpainted steps" |
| Posted by Jean Mollett on 07/20/03 at 06:32 AM Hi Allan,
Good one. I spent sunday morning in church and night. I can walk to it, so close. If it's not too hot, etc. Then relax afterwards, eat lunch, etc. Supper before I go that night. We're having an Inernational dinner this Sunday evening. Jean |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 07/20/03 at 06:18 PM "tripple-bippling", "sloo-boozing","shubuffling" all fascinating "word" formations in a very warm description of a walk to church. I feel like I am walking with you. Great read! |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 07/20/03 at 06:29 PM OOPs! Congratulations on POTD. |
| Posted by Alex Smyth on 07/20/03 at 09:12 PM Congratulation on POTD! One of my favorites! |
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