My knight

[Helga]

I was sitting at the local cafe hoping to meet a boy I know, well he didn't come and I had been sitting alone for a long time (like usual) and the waitor came and put a small plastic knight on the table to cheer me up, and so I wrote this simple poem.

My knight in shining armour
turned out to be a toy.
He was made of plastic,
no bones.
He's smaller than my thumb
so I can't kiss him,
his hands are hard as stones
so he can't hold me.
He dosen't eat,
he dosen't drink,
he dosen't feel
so he can't love me.
He's not fresh from the battle
just a shop.
He dosen't ride his saddle.
Dosen't even paddle
cause his horse is plastic too.
He isn't real,
so he can't feel,
he dosen't love me.

[mono]

Beautiful and touching with simplicity. I like many of the random rhymes, and the very specific descriptions (ideal for most poetry), such as "made of plastic / no bones," his hands are hard as stones," and "he doesn't ride his saddle."
I apologize for hearing about your predicament at the coffeehouse; hopefully all seems well otherwise. Here, to cheer you up:
http://www.polle.net/marlaine/images/toyhorse.gif
:)

[Helga]

very sweet mono...

[Sitaram]

I like this poem.

This poem has potential.

The poet has potential.

A knight has potential.

I think that the poet must become a knight.

A word is a pointer towards something. The word "knight" points at something ideal, which does not exist.

There were knights at one point in history. They were perhaps a dirty, sorry, mannerless lot in real life. Somehow, along the way, we glorified those knights into some kind of ideal, something bigger than life.

The the little toy knight points towards something we imagine. We imagine being loved. We imagine someone holding us. We do not imagine a crude and clumsy adolescent who uses us for gratification and then goes about behind our backs, bragging about what he got from us or making fun of how our body looks, or what we said or did during a moment of intimacy. Sometimes we look for a knight and what we find is a nightmare.


What is it that we really seek in life? Certainly, it is not a little toy that we seek. But suppose we really had a soul-mate, a life companion, who would marry us, live with us, support us, help us. Would that make us happy? Would that make us want to live each day? Would that make our depression and suicidal thoughts go away?


Sometimes, we look for something outside of ourselves to make up for something that we lack within ourselves. We look for someone to love us, when what we really need to do is to love ourselves. We look for someone or something to make us happy, when in reality it is only we ourselves who can resolve to be happy.

[Helga]

Thanks for that Sitaram. I do agree that we can't be happy until we love ourselves, how can anyone love someone who dosen't love him/herself? That day when I was hoping to meet this boy I talked to a girl sitting at the next table and we talked about just about everything, and I realized I don't really like him. I don't know why I ever did. But this poem kinda represents that, he wasn't able to like me so I lost interest in him...

[Jay]

Very nice poem :)