The Ballard of The Gutterman

Poem I wrote a while ago about the fading character of a man on the street.

On cobblestones rancid
And underbridge passes
The troubled man dances in gutters alone.

Like the gum-gullied ridges
Of paving stone saviours
The gutter man dances in troubles his own

And clutching a cup with a hand full of blisters
The troubled man whispers for pockets of coins,
But the pockets don’t fund what the pining man pines for;
Amphetamine tapestries sewn on his door.

Bloodshooting blinding
He’s looking for Jesus
To leather his jacket
And polish his soul

But finding no finding
He finally sees us
And though a rough diamond,
He settles for coal.

Reviews

[Vol]

Greg,
It has become apparent in my old age, that EVERYONE searches for Jesus... Even Atheists. We are human and puny, nothing worth mentioning, statistically, in a galaxy as big as this one, we do not even exist, much less in the whole universe. But we are conscious, we know the difference between past, present, and future, recognize ourselves in the mirror, and so demand there be more than just what looks back at us. Some call Jesus "Science," some "art," some "philosophy," some "Whiskey." All as a means to salvation from the ridiculous emptiness inside us all. Some folks are diamonds their whole lives, and some will be coal, but we all need Jesus... the real one.

[A.A.]

Wonderfully vivid; crisp and explicit without seeming vulgar- I like it.

A few suggestions, at any rate;
"Gum-gullied ridges" calls to mind your vagrant's mouth- the image is a very valid one, and it's even a fair association, decaying gums and teeth and such, yet it strikes an strange chord on the first reading through.

I would also query the "blisters/whispers" rhyme; although "whispers" certainly fits, I do feel that it carries a touch thats a little too light, against the dogged reality of the rest of the poem. Judging by the rest of what you've written, you can surely go one better here.

So lastly, as ever, a dash more punctuation would likely serve to enhance the distinction between your images and cast into focus the meter, that steady, incriminating rhythm at the heart of the piece.

All said, a fascinating poem.

All the best.

A.A.


PS; Ballard or Ballad?

[EmpressPoetess]

Awesome! I can see this ragged man; delirium tremons and drug withdrawals, Searching for a quick fix to blot out the world he made for himself. Awesome!

Dee