It's All ....in the Pocket

trying...something different... dedicated to those who ( Beat the Streets )

 

Pockets…

 

Yellowed pouch with the torn corner

in the front of Grams’ housecoat

where she tucked crumpled Kleenex, coupons and scriptures

folded by gentle mighty hands,that sought Gods advice

Praying one of these …would change things

 

 

Pockets…

Spaces that grow, between Mothers and daughters

we're talking chasms here

spaces deep enough, for all manner of life's doings to fall in

and fill it enough to s-t-r-e-t-c-h it wide

till it groans

but not high enough to climb out

 

Traded-up for jeans

with tiny wanna-be pockettas

so tight

she had to carry  house keys, and pacifiers

as she pushed baby carriages along the sidewalk of

Mothers' predictions

 

Followed by second chances

As she slid notebooks and term papers into diaper bags

Next to Grandmas coupons tucked in with a few dollars for the baby

on the way to night school

 

Until….

Business plans and meeting notes

filled Coach briefcases and bags

That cost more than the rent

Of that old apartment

 

Pockets …

Born to grow a boy to a man

Big enough to hold slingshots, Marbles, baseball cards and lucky talismans

Gave way …To sag jeans

That held love notes, Condoms

and  failed quizzes to be signed

 

Grew badder …

Stuffed with  cell phones and 9mm pistols

overheated by fifteen years of rage and despair

 

Till they overflowed ,with folded funeral handouts

As he went to church with his boys, for the very first time

they cried like men

 reaching ….to take the Kleenex from Grams mighty hands

 

Pockets ……

Hoodies Stuffed with cold hands, dreams and late-nights

As he hustled across campus for finals

 

Evolved to, sewn-shut pockets

of expensive suits,hung on brass hangers

In offices

He....called the shots in.

 

Pockets…

He counted them…. the pouches, behind the pews for Bibles and hymnals

As he walked down the aisle

to stand before Grams for the last time

Kneeling only long enough to tuck a folded yellow scripture

into the pocket of her dress

He took his seat next to the woman with the coach bag

Kissed her forehead,took the baby from her arms

And thought.......

        How prayer changes things.

 

 

Blesssssss

 

 ©2007 bythewurd J Hampton

Reviews

[Emily B]

Never really looked at pockets quite this way before. . . I was struck by the frayed pocked on the granny's housecoat. That's an image that really drew me in. The circularity of the pockets struck me and I wondered what Gram thought of the in-between times. But, then, maybe we are told by that line about how prayer changes things.

Looking forward to seeing how this progresses. . .

[angelina neves]

very touching and it is amazing how you use pockets to tell this wounderful story!

[Gandré]

the 2nd stanza ... nocked me off my feet, "we're talking chasms here / spaces deep enough, for all manner of life's doings to fall in". Such an enclosed space between everything. So beautiful how you let me look at things of daily life, I never did before... I adore this your ability to write big all encompassing almost cinematic scenes and how it reflext in all layers of life and that all in one poem! Brilliantly written!

[d]

WHOOOOOA!!!!!...this is some mighty fine storytelling sis...tying it all together with pockets is a stroke of genius...I tip my pad and pen to your creativity...BRAVA!!!

[Blackbirdsong]

I know I'm not the first to say this but I absolutely love the way you use the metaphor and the actual aspects of pockets to write the many journeys of this poem. It's so true too...so much of our lives exists in pockets and oh the joy of finding you'd put away in one and forgotten; especially if it's money.

[Melanie Jane Boicourt S..]

This brought tears. It is wonderful. I loved it loved it loved it. There is nothing more that I can say.
Oh wait. There was one thing that I remember bothered me but the ending was so good that I almost forgot about it.
""Grew badder �""
What exactly did you mean by that? Did you put 'badder' on purpose as some kind of slang. I do not know why it bugged me like it did, but it stood out like a sore thumb compared to the rest of the poem (that I loved by the way).
Did I tell you that I loved this poem?
Thank you for sharing.
Love All, Mejasha
P.S. I really loved the poem. LOL

[AK]

Remarkable write.

[Celtic Cat]

WOW. I don't think I'll ever look at pockets the same ever. This is utterly enthralling. From go I was captured...into a world where Grandma reigned... oh and the sad stretching pocket btw mother and daughter made my eyes a bit damp....
This is like a short epic piece....
The baby and college classes...like a walk through a life
And the boy......oh the boy. Probably the most emotional part for me (um, maybe after the mom/daughter part) - but maybe not. I used to work with male adolescents in a juvenile rehab...oh...the condoms then the guns...then, yes, the funeral cards. How utterly gut wrenching. Ah, and the trip into the business realm....love those sewn-shut pockets (not). Do love his sneaking a little something into Grandma's pocket. Very bitter sweet. This is a masterpiece, through and through. An emotional roller coaster ride through life and into death. And yes, prayer does change things. Excellent, excellent, excellent!!!

[Rodney Ray Hatchell / U..]

Wow what a wonderful written story poem, This reminded me of the song that Elvis sung called, In T he Ghetto , That was amazing write. I loved about the pocket part ,,My mothers pocket always had everything you needed at the time . Her overalls was filled as she went to milk the cow with tissues to clean the milk bags first . I loved this brought great times for me . God bless, Rodney

[SassySays]

I love the literal, and metaphoric play on Pockets....such a wide view always leaves space for creativity...I love this poem...it is more masterpiece, than poem...kinda epic!....

[Damien Dsoul]

I could sit here and read through the individual chapters/verses of this poem, and still there's no chance I'd have gotten quite enough of it. Quite enjoyable and riverting.