Harold lives contentedly, his neighbors not included.
He sees their dreams of grandeur, grandly self-deluded.
Locals squirm and shiver, don’t know how to dress amid the general squalor.
Harold Haberdasher goes to work, grabs stumbling apple jacks by the collar,
Turns them into genuine gentlemen
Even gentle Benjamin
With his quirky regimen
Of gritty diner coffee and high voltage special Ks,
His lucky charms of power for surviving lightless days.
Crack sidewalk traffic staggers, this street life ain’t for kids
It’s iron-taste-in-the-mouth nonexistence on these back alley skids.
Lillian at dVerse Poets Pub asked for some brand name noodling. My inspiration was Special K which as most of you will know is street language for the horrible drug Ketamine. I mixed up the rhyme scheme to match the mixed up world of the setting.
My days as dangerous and echoing as a tin with razor sharp edges thrown into the bin.
Then summer. You.
Your free spirit like birdsong, trilled,
Found me, loved me, filled my world to bursting.
Egg shells cracked mosaic-like,
Fledgling life peaked through.
Lean down and let me kiss your furrowed brow.
Let me sweep away the shadowy doubts,
Brush them aside with symphonic flourish,
With a lover’s grand, poetic gesture.
An ode to our unparalleled connection,
A canto for the exquisite years we’ve left to be.
Tired times, waiting, fleeting, stolen.
Moments meant for someone else’s life,
Descend like sparse crumbs fall from the dinner table.
Mine to capture, hide, and cling to for all I’m worth.
Ricochet your guilt if you must.
Bounce back to me. Soon.