Upon a time, I sat in a wonder. To watch. Such as things, go by. Outside, a moving window. Play the scenes. Of a world, so wide. To be discovered of, after so many miles fly. Already covered. In this time, of childhood. With rare opportunity. Traveling. Away, from a home and. What now? So far away. Excitement, is to feel. The earth roll by. Under wheels, that are off. To explore. The, by and by. Unknowns...
Days, have past. The surround, changing so quickly and memories piling. One, on another. States, been through. On a charted map. We follow, diligence. Our goal, still. Thousand miles distant, and. This wonder. Still speaks, thrills. To a little man, of so little. Collected experience. Shivers, the vastness of the entering, Texas.This place of cowboys and legend, such as. The Alamo. Movies seen and, nothing. What so ever like that, of being there. Canada, my home...
Was nothing like, this slow marauding lazy heat. On un-air conditioned wheels, like torture. Texas, I like the sound. We arrive, in a town. So picturesque, my Mother. Almost decide, we stay. Me, wondering. In the moving there. Meaning? To my short life, to have Texas friends. In this sunny small town, and all its beautiful. Shady oak lined streets. An homes. Lives, lived. In Texas. I'd ponder that heavily, to plead me. Move on dreams! Established, in the diligent goal... our, Mexico.
Still. We, stay awhile. Oakville, was slow and sleepy. In its yards, so sculpted. The flowers, that perfumed. The air and... heat. Why, was the Texas Sun. So different? We walk, through some farmer field. Just because. Our lunch, was packed and blanket carried. Rolled up pieces of family memories. This knoll, and the touch, the? What... The grandeur of the Texas surround. The wind in waves. That play. Across acres, of toil. A Texan, who must love his breadth of this perfect curving land. Sky. That went on. Forever...
I loved, that memory. Its. Time and Space. That had, for some little while. Been, replaced. In the living out. Other, experience... Poetry, had brought it back. The feel, of that Texas Sun. The wonder, held. In that States, expanse. Another time. In life, seen. Spent. Some little time, under. That burning torture. Endured, with surrender. Our travels, intercepted. By Oakville's Texas Pride. Now, another. Shines, upon me. Its warmth, for a time. Like, that kind wind. An ocean, of sky. Joyful clouds, moving on. Under wonder... A certain passing. Had moved a memory. An, thank her. In a poem expressed.
Texas Sun... living lives, toils and dreams. Move on... forever
Incredibly vivid. It explains both the lure of travel and permanence. It is absolutely true that the sky is different in different places: I've never been too far south, or west, but when I went north, and east, the light had a quality that was almost like cream, and it colored everything I did and thought. You draw so well on memory here. Walt, too, had kaleidescopic memories of childhood days ..."There was a child went forth every day;
And the first object he look'd upon, that object he became;
And that object became part of him for the day, or a certain part of
the day, or for many years, or stretching cycles of years."
Was nothing like, this slow marauding lazy heat. On un-air conditioned
wheels, like torture. Texas, I like the sound.
We arrive, in a town. So picturesque, my Mother.--------oh this was ringing! I also like the sound of the word Texas...
such an empathetic poem, you took me there.. I love poetry written from experience. That's the trick, how to be authentic, time and space is anywhere.. nice idea, and I liked how you said - Almost decide, we stay. you described something what always is there.
... oh this is one of the most spell-binding odes that i have ever read ... it's like an enchanting journey ... with so many amazing visuals that come to life as you write about them ... the detailing is exceptional ... and the way you linger in the special moments is magical ... these are my favourite lines ... for me they're pure artistry and sheer genius ...
Still. We, stay awhile. Oakville, was slow and sleepy. In its yards, so sculpted.
The flowers, that perfumed. The air and... heat.
Why, was the Texas Sun. So different? We walk, through some farmer field.
Just because. Our lunch, was packed and blanket
carried. Rolled up pieces of family memories. This knoll, and the touch, the?
What... The grandeur of the Texas surround. The wind
in waves. That play. Across acres, of toil. A Texan, who must love his breadth
of this perfect curving land. Sky. That went on. Forever...
Now I can see that you are using punctuation (In particular full-stops) to create a natural pause, I can see what you're trying to do, and I like it. The problem is, full-stops signify the end of a point and the start of a new one- so it can make everything a little unclear at times.
But overall, I adored this poem. You really did paint some really beautiful pictures, and the story flowed well. It's quite deep. I love it.
Amazingly vivid imagery Rodrick:) I particularly like the fact there are some longer lines in this, I know some readers are daunted by that, I personally, love it! lol
I really like this piece. You have a way of painting pictures. I know this may be cramping your style so you don't have to listen, but using so much punctuation and short sentences can get distracting for the reader. I would suggest using them at important places in the poem. If this is how you always write, ignore me.
goodness ro, this is a gorgeous little piece, it just breaks my heart. i think you must carry a bit of that texas sun in you, because its brightness, its wonder comes out in your writing so clearly... what a lovely memory to have, and to share with us all. :)
Romon... in Review
I write thriller fiction action/adventure, that are at times. Possibly ethical and demand... some spiritual introspection. From the Deep Dark & Primal,
I write in seclusion. In a.. more..