11:07

[MystyrMystyry]

I'm bouncing down the street
A vine-lined avenue - beautiful
Green lush rich and moss-bricky
With each step the paving stones
Rise high to greet my feet
Echoey song of strange birds
Neon lights fill the sky

Old man in prison pyjamas reading
A colourful comic in rocking chair
Peels another from a stack
Chuckles as teeth chatter
Smoke blows from his ears
Eyes spin in circles - he rocks
Both backwards and sideways

A tubby bloke I think I know
Who's face is rubbery purple
Also bouncy - no time to chat
But bumps into a chubby frilly
In each other's way - and their
Limbs drop off - all amuddle
As heads roll along the gutter

Bystanders and passersby watch
Everyone all rotund and jolly
Step in to lend a hand, arm, foot
Leg - until they're a jumbled mess
Legs, feet, arms, hands, heads on
Wrong bodies - happy with the result
They each go their separate ways

The ground cracks open and
An enormous hand grows up
Like a tree bathing in the moonlight
I lean against lamppost and roll a cigar
And off in the distance I hear
The voice cry out - and a red carpet
Unfurls toward me as I puff

Tall skinny with a beret saunters
Pauses and begins reading poems
Swiss cheese sheets pulled from
His upturned topper - the carpet
Covered in glinting silver coins
Which make a chime-like music
To accompany the horror

He looks at me bluely and asks
If this verse I'd like to purchase
I shake my head in shock and
Explain why not - 'It's rotten
It grates - it rubs the wrong way
Scrawled in grey crayon - it's ugly
Demonic - it doesn't smell nice

I do not buy poetry off the street
Never know what you're going to get
Look at this stuff - doesn't even rhyme!'
He pulls out a match and sets it afire
No less a fate it deserves - but then
I regret my words and offer to procure
Topper and coins - for one poem of mine

He is taken aback by my generosity
Rolls up his carpet and scurries away
In my new hat the jinglies grow heavy
Burdensome weight means I must
Locate a hollow in a tree trunk
Which conveniently is directly ahead
With a rainbow bird upon a branch

'Good morning to you sir!' it chirps in
A whisper 'What there in that hat?'
'None of your business you scurrilous-'
'No need for that talk - merely a question'
'Well no need for an answer if you talk back
Before being spoken to and that's no lie!'
It turns bright blue and then into a cat

'I'm going to the city' it suddenly barks
Walking away with umbrella in the air
I feel I've offended - but it spins on its heel
Stands up - waves goodbye with a paw
Gets in an old tyre and slowly rolls off
With the radio blaring Hendrix and the Stones
And cat crooning off-key off-tune along

I resume bouncing down the road until
I arrive at a fence on the other side
Of which are serpentine hills with farms
And shacks in the valleys - I ask myself
Should I bounce over? The buildings
Seem deserted and to be inspected
But a trouble scaling the obstacle

Eventually though - and the first is made
Of popsticks - the second of popcorn
The third of popbottles - and so forth
Until the last which POPS!
Into a cloud of black smoke which
Tumbles into itself and slowly
Becomes thin - a swarm of dragonflies

Dissipate to the four corners
I turn to return to find the road
Overgrown with tall grass tufts
Making a windy whistle as I pass
And the fence is ajar to bounce through
But the street is the same except
Gone is the moon - in its place
Millions of flickering stars

[Bar22do]

Ah wow, what an energy. I had the feeling of perfect (though complex and fine) rhythms throughout, and the inner rhymes were just in place. The whole story complex, colourful and the orchestral sounds give a whirl! And all that at 11:07! I love it very much, MM. A great poem.
Just in S3/L2 "Who's" should be "whose" I think, plus another one or two minor typos in other places which, if you re-read yourself, you could correct unless it was all on purpose. Best from Bar

[AuntShecky]

I wish this began with another word rather than "so." It sounds like a two-bit stand-up comedian's routine. You know the kind of comic I mean. He comes out on stage, doesn't even greet the audience and says "So I was dating this girl. . ." Leave "so" as a conjunction or an intensifying adverb. "It was so cold. . ."

Despite the inauspicious beginning, I enjoyed this "I am a camera" panorama view of passersby, containing observations some of which are acute and others rather banal, especially the fourth verse. You could elaborate on the heads on the "wrong bodies" (necks) but "they each went their separate ways" is a cliché. There are a few quirky, original flashes, such as the guy selling poems on the street, but the sales pitch goes on a little too long.

Watch out for awkward syntax and wrenching. I remember how a gal on a different poetry site used
to call lines like "Gone is the moon" : "Yoda speech."

The walk itself must be a lengthy one--could use a detour. Some of the lines the less interesting characters could be deleted. Make this a shorter walk. Prune the trees along the boulevard and patch over the potholes. Then you'll really have something-- a delightful promenade.

[Delta40]

I agree. Alot of energy, as if you really needed to say a whole lot more than you wrote. Some of the images reminded me of claymation where colours merge, reshape themselves and become part of another scenery. The Beatles and LSD (don't know why on that one!)

Very colourful indeed and I'm left wondering what it all means.

[MystyrMystyry]

It was transcribed verbatim from the notebook I wrote it in (though with added italics for speech) after waking up at 11:07 (night) from one of those incredibly vivid dreams that you just have to write down (too many oysters?)

It's dated 1/9/09 (but no description of what dinner was)

Thanks for reading and commenting everyone :)

[MorpheusSandman]

I was going to say that it has the vividness of a dream, something akin to Alice in Wonderland. My only complaint is that you stay too long with some concepts, like the poetry seller, but quickly abandon some more interesting ones like the hand growing out of the ground. But what I really love about this is how seamlessly you tie together the ordinary with the surreal. There are some parts that are utterly banal in description before something surreal erupts from nowhere. It makes for some difficult to follow, but constantly surprising reading.

Unlike Aunt S., the occasional syntactical reversals didn't bother me. I think when you're in the realm of the surreal they can actually enhance the feeling of everything being out of place and upside down. Plus, I think those few instances you used it were well chosen because of what words the emphasis is put on and where. I like that the stressed "Gone" opens the line following the stressed second syllable of "except". It makes it more forceful, and puts the absence at the forefront.

[MystyrMystyry]

Thankyou MS - I thought it worked too - overall, which is why I put it up, there's a thing with actual dreams as the source, all warm and snug (except for nightmares obviously - but maybe them also to a degree)


Thanks everyone for commenting