Boom!A Poem by ClemmyThis piece describes things when they go wrong, they go really bad. So I am just putting an effort to describe how things would possibly go wrong...All things go up in a fray, A flying heap never seen before, The magic stick broken, The next move annulled, Mind boggling creatures stare half conjured, With ghoulish eyes unblinking, Runaway pots and pans clutter and bang, Upon each other far away from the source, A yawning mistake at you glares, It sticks onto every corner of the room, Refusing to go, no-one has to tell it. Everything has blown up, Some have classified it, it's human error, They whisper in hisses in the quiet, Yes everything has blown up, No-one has to say it, There are now only consequential gains or losses, Yes losses to little ants and crawly creepies, Rats loot but flies cannot carry away, They simply vacate, And find new places to be, And somebody blames them, He blames the neighbor too, Who had been busy snoring, When the conjurer set off to work. 'twas in the hut's secrecy, And the blanket of the pitch night, Boom! Was the reality, Of conceived plans, The hut's roof went off, Like a rocket into the skies yonder, The old magician's implements fell here and there, He gibbered and shuffled about in disbelief, He was tattered and he totterred here 'n' there, Smarting, pained, he swore at the neighbour, Cursed he fellow magicians, He attacked innocent mice and mites, Now they suffer at his misgivings, Has he not been their caregiver, Assuredly yes, but now he's ranting, Raving from hut corner to roof, Like an old dragon, That fought bravely in the night. His mistake, the owl told some bystanders, Had been his pride and relentlessness, Mistakes are if they are not his, Poor little creatures had been crushed before, For little mistakes committed from excess pressure, So now he's made it, The mother of all mistakes in life, Nothing so far will douse his burning spirit, For now he is challenged by the seeds, He sew so many years ago, It all has to happen to us, Confrontation with the seeds we sown, Yes it does sir.
© 2011 ClemmyAuthor's Note
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Added on January 24, 2011 Last Updated on January 24, 2011 AuthorClemmyBulawayo, Matebeleland North, ZimbabweAboutI am a poet and prose writer. I live in Zimabwe and am a member of Bulawayopoetry. I am also a playwright with several plays marked for production at the Bulawayo theatre. I also write scripts for car.. more..Writing
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