Ballad of Jean-Marie
it’s the first one
that you see in bright
birthday suit you be
Callum Jean-Marie
it’s the second year begins
the growing mountain tree
he climbs the weeks and days
the months and years to come
Callum Jean-Marie,
the times that fly like dust
on this green land which feels
like specks of starry light
by night and shiny white knight
rings the things that bring the ones
who sings the tingling sense which
warmly tender makes a king of
children’s peeling laughter
Callum Jean-Marie.
to be a prince is what you seek
Callum Jean-Marie, to find a way
to go and play your music in the
world, the universe is yours to see
and yours to roam, Callum Jean-Marie.
and grow up tall and perhaps be small
in all but pride and skill, the thrill of
pleasing to your ma your teeth be strong
your arm be far too long not narrow
be your mind, Callum Jean-Marie,
the best that can be said will be your
bread and butter for the utter ease
to please the mother who is dieing
with the ceaseless love and care
for one more year of giving more
than living to her baby boy and
winning back that love and endless
restless little turtle swimming
life that strives to give his
smiling spirit rhythm soft and
glowing cheeks of beating drums
a happy knowing mood just brimming
full and rich in sowing seeds of red cheek
blowing horns and welcome forms of
contentedness
Callum Jean-Marie.
Birthday Poem on your One. 2/23/08
DW 2/23/2008
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Todd E Eddy, a review
Thu, 20 Jun 2002 14:22:52 -0600
"To say Wilde writes in a "unique style" would undermine the talent and gift he has to offer. The challenge is not for him to simply tell a tale, but the willingness of the reader to bend their own rules of convention. To open their minds to a more expansive world of words and literature: Existential, Post-Modern, Beat. These are all to narrow a description. To put plainly, Wilde is to wild to lasso and brand. There is no corral big enough to contain his work. He is a different breed of writer."