|
When I Was New
by Tony WhitakerArriving alive in the copper colored sunset of life
Time is not kind to the slow and empty glow
Recalling the luck and life of those ruined acres
Finding fortunes along the grade of defeats and feats
A child force-fed ore to mine
From school books which stole my novel mind
To walk the terrific and tedious distance
Sixteen years in their assembly line
The cost was failure for forty years
Making more money than I needed here
Climbing conformity to their upper tiers
While I wailed...while lost...alone in tears
Now I seek the treble shouts of youth
Along a path scuffed bare when I was new
Between days hung suspended from my mother’s breast
To when I was chained to that wooden desk
11/18/2010 Posted on 11/18/2010
Copyright © 2026 Tony Whitaker
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 11/18/10 at 10:40 AM First - nice use of alliteration from line to line! Second, interesting rhyming patterns throughout. Amazing imagery, too. Love this, Tony! |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 11/18/10 at 12:49 PM Oh yes, back when we thought we thought, time moves swiftly and we are left looking back at where it went. Good write Tony. |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 11/18/10 at 07:23 PM The word play in this is just dizzying. I'd love to throw combination punches like this, especially in that last stanza. Terrific. |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 12/17/10 at 03:18 PM Oh, man, I do SO relate. This poem a sterling rowboat rocking precariously upon the waves of life - a spirit willing to reveal itself and bless this grateful reader. I feel the tension... the line stretched taught between the Swiss slopes and the wooden desk. Thank you for this gem, Tony. |
|
