Story Teller

I seriously want to do this one day

That stale old stocky man who stands homeless on the corner,

the one who walks by grayish like his scruffy gray beard,

and long and torn like light wiry white strands.

 

How long have they grown?

 

Dispersed at a thick end into air

that bluely floats on its back down my Mississippi street,

the stale old stingy stranger stands still on his silent shadow.

 

Where has this man been?

 

What would he say to me

if I said to him, “Salutations, quiet sir,

you’re alive! And no conscious quitter.

 

What’s your story?

 

I’d like to tell it to a world of readers,

if it’s interesting,

you’d be immortalized.

 

Would you like me to?

 

Neal Cassady was Dean Moriarty,

Jack Kerouac was Sal Paradise,

Allen Ginsberg was Carlo Marx.

 

What’s your alias to be?

 

And of course I’ll need

all those prickly details

that stick and cut like burs.

 

How much time do you have?

 

Please tell me so I can story tell

like you write through my eyes,

my pen, my page, my mind.

 

How do you feel about Grey Seranly?”

 

One day, someday, I will see someone

like Grey is like, and serenely propose to be

their story teller.

 

What would he say to me?

Author's Note

Do the questions in their own one-line stanzas work? Anything trip you up? Any suggestions for improvement? Let me know your honest thoughts.

Reviews

[Kasey Klein]

As always, Travis, your poetry is wonderful (I've been avoiding taking my literary vivisectionist's knife to your fiction, but I'll get to it).

I like the premise of this poem. I've been good at what I call objective listening all my life. I like a story, any story. Over the years, I've listened hungrily, gathering the bones of humanity, later to be reassembled with renewed flesh.

I've said: I have many story to tell of my life, some of which have actually happened.

Just the other day, I was pondering the six billion people in the world -- six billion people. And, I thought what it would be like to sit with each and listen to a story. Everyone has a story, and for those stories not so interesting, that's where we come in, the storyteller.

If you get time, check out my short story: Randy Joyce Locke (http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/KarlKlein/216753/)

I talk of objective listening

[Erin Phoenix]

This is a very intresting piece.

It made me feel for it.

I didnt want to turn my eyes away or pause.

Good work Travis.

:)

[Siddartha Beth Pierce]

I like this very much - I hope that you follow through with your desire and find someone who has an interesting tale to weave. Great job. Thank you.
Light,
Siddartha

[No One Important]

We all would like to be the teller of our stories, but for those of us who cannot or will not tell their tales, we depend on the storytellers of the world to illustrate our lives...well done

[Kara Emily Krantz]

the questions work well - i got tripped up in that last stanza, when you used 'like' a couple times - it messed up my flow and i didn't understand at first the clarity of what you were saying

"And of course I'll need

all those prickly details

that stick and cut like burs."

i liked the verse the best.

it is a great idea. the problem is to do this humbly. I'm sure plenty of people would spit in your face, but i'm sure there are plenty who would love to be heard.

My brother is a model in NYC, and the other week he got arrested for helping out his agent's husband in a bar fight, lol. so he was in a NYC jail for a couple days... and he talked to me about the experience the other day. He talked about the thin line between us in our houses and with our jobs, and them on the streets. and how we're all the same - and how close that line is, andhow easy it would be to step fall trip over it, and be on the streets. it humbled him immensely. I dont think he'll be the same after that. This poem made me think of this.

Hugs