Monday, June 01, 2009

The Bench ©©

Lost among the crowd
On a park bench, not far from who I am
I sit and look at life
As it swirls in this shit hole I call my mind

Rewinding to the beginning
The grass is as green as it always was
Apple blossoms are in bloom
Life is bursting from its slumber once more

Filling all the gaps and empty spaces
Hiding the ugly with beauty
Removing the stench from the air
Replacing it with a familiar perfume

I hear the laughter of children
Watch them run around
Oblivious to everything
But the sound of their own happiness

Spread out in a circle, parents
Sentinels, guarding the flock
Scared to look away
To paranoid to smile

The old wino is gone
From the bench next to me
I remember him there
When I was five

I remember him passed out
Bottle in hand
His grandson sleeps there now
Pipe in his

The old lady begging for change
Is now the teenage hooker
Fucking for change
Selling her soul for her brother sitting next to me

A white and yellow ball rolls to my feet
Not much unlike a black and white one I once saw
A little boy sheepishly stands at the edge of the grass
Not much unlike another little boy I once knew

The trees remember my name
They remember the laughter
Of a million voices from as many children
Even mine when I am gone

From my bench I can see the past
Feel the present
Live with both in my garden and hope
Hope the apple blossoms bloom forever

Walker

5 comments:

Brosreview said...

A lot of self-aggression here mate. Very intense!

Shadow said...

here's to apple blossoms. may they bloom once again...

Woman in a Window said...

Walker, I like the varying layers to this, layers in perspective and time, the differences in colour, in indulgence, in attitude, and then the lack of differences too.

But yes, let's hope on the apple blossoms.

Kay said...

Very cynical, observant, and hopeful all at once. I really enjoy this piece; I find it easily relatable and enjoy the course of thought process.

Terri Bebla said...

This piece produced wonderul images for me.

I often find myself doing the very same thing as I watch my children and others play. Just pondering about how things change, yet remain the same. Its that wonderous yet predictable cycle! It is amazes how life is; children begin as young, happy oblivious creatures running through a park, sheltered by their parents, not knowing that one day that man asleep on the bench with a bottle in his hand or the women asking for change could be them...

I loved this!!