The Dandy and the Grindstone

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This story is rich with end games and enemies,

The hand that locks the winter’s latch will talk about the sick,

Euphoria licks the membranes and memories,

The man atop the gizzard had to walk without a stick.

~

Climbing from his home when so blind to snow season,

Grinding on a stone with no rhyme and no reason,

This land to mine will pass the time when thorough as a washed ass,

A pantomime with half the mind to twirl like a top hat,

The wicker stumps will live in lumps and then break into the city’s booze,

The gizzard pumped as winter slumped and awakened in a pissy mood,

With hands to block the shinbones laid in sand like they were minutes,

The man that walked the grindstone played his hand like it was cribbage,

A tree dome when the labor blooms in land that rots the still,

A keystone on the maker’s moon, the man had bought his fill,

Eden’s air will clock the dirt’s devil harbor sinking ash,

Legionnaires to walk the earth, metal armor clanking fast,

Laying back and shooting dogs, making them the food for poor,

Painting masks and looping knots, raiding on a sloop-of-war,

A sack of leaves will have its fun, livid at the winter’s rain,

The candles cease and battle’s won, rivets on the rivers wane,

The shooters fall from coast to coast, as fools and thugs will take life’s homes,

A rooster calls in Kosovo and cools the touch like lakeside bones,

So, lastly as the winter ends, the pain will bring rhyme phonics,

The dandy in the gizzard’s den then made a springtime promise.

Big Salholorimesurrealist storyVerisimilitude: Volume 2yeah like I said

◄ Keloid Scars

Controversy Courts Opinion ►

Comments

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Big Sal

Wed 9th Jan 2019 00:14

Thanks everyone for reading once more.

Po, that line just rolls off the tongue though doesn't it? I wanted to convey the richness of country life and project it in a way to show that no matter where in the world the sun is setting - there is always beauty to be found amongst the rubble and ashes.

A lot of 'kuh' or 'kay' sounds in that line to form a sort of alliteration, but not full blown.

Thanks for picking a line to enjoy.😎

poemagraphic

Tue 8th Jan 2019 17:26

This one line peeks my desire to know that which inspired you to write this...
…"A rooster calls in Kosovo and cools the touch like lakeside bones,
So, lastly as the winter ends, the pain will bring rhyme phonics,

I love the sound of that! ;)

Po

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Big Sal

Tue 8th Jan 2019 15:49

Thank you, Jane. Good to see you back.🌷

<Deleted User> (19836)

Tue 8th Jan 2019 15:04

Seasons change exposing profound emotion! Love it!😊

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Big Sal

Mon 7th Jan 2019 12:39

Thank you Taylor, it's good to get your feedback again. Don't feel pressured to comment or press 'like' on anything. I know you're out there, reading, supporting, strengthening.😉

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Taylor Crowshaw

Mon 7th Jan 2019 06:48

A powerful poem Big Sal. ❤

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Big Sal

Mon 7th Jan 2019 00:11

You: Drops jaw

Me: Drops mic

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Big Sal

Mon 7th Jan 2019 00:04

You reading this brings me great joy, but alas, the sadness creeps up like a vine and chokes the life away if all one can see is willful denial and systematic-yet-minute injustices. The quartz may crack, but the men do not. Terracotta gets no burial here.

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