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Odin odin@aflx.com

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Books
· Perceptions

· ECHOSIS

· Prosetry at Work

· Said and Unsaid - Vol 1

· 3 WAY MIRROR


Short Stories
· Patience Waning

· Ladle Lines (A prosetry memory)

· A Gentle Man

· Pacing Love's Journey

· Gratitude

· A Sticky Conversation

· Blazing Now and Then

· Vulnerable Captivity

· The Kite That Would Not Bow

· Time


Articles
· War and Peace

· Desperation Breeds Desperation

· Preference Manifest

· Innocent Guilt

· Barbed Isolation

· A Place...

· Sanity's Loss

· Organs Anonymous

· Fatuous Beyond Absurdity

· Truth is One


Poetry
· The Life-long Pernicious Evil

· Cherishing Sounds of Silence

· Understanding the Unexplainable

· Reality of Another Kind

· Finding Trust Again

· Aromalicious Memories

· A Jungle-rain Pastorale

· Sediment Within the Soul

· Life's Enormous Green Chest

· Roadkill Memoriam

         More poetry...

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Dream Keys

by Odin odin@aflx.com — Read all 3,869 poems by Odin odin@aflx.com

A prosetry stream from ventures past.

Saturday, August 24, 2013


Poem Artwork
Dream Keys
by Odin Roark

A NY mantra
Rent the rentable
Move the movable
Key the keyable

Apartments

Four-wall-guardian of yesterday’s youth
Vacuous cellmates of old age loneliness
All part of a cyclic maze
All having a key
Urban life’s Rubik’s Cube turnover

Today’s the day

“Two rooms”
“New paint”
“Clean window”
“No-squeaky floorboards”
Superintendent loves to present

Move in

Keys
Entrance door
Mailbox
Apartment
Laundry room

All yours

A windowsill vase of plastic roses
Your welcome of faded memories
The window to the people below
Your traveled city as roommate
Through another glass darkly

Gotta love it

Pea green layering
Over cracked and peeling bygones
Your very own chipped-paint scrapbook
A giant shoebox of ghostly images
Once possessing your castle-keys

Settle in

Struggle
Dream
Survive
Stand at your window
Watch canyon updrafts
Swirl your make-believe snowflakes
Carrying them skyward
Mixing with sparkling darkness
Where every star is yours

Count the days

Where light to see
Will be owned by neighboring towers
Where former tenants came young
Left old
Where thrown cups and china
Christened walls
And confinement’s anger and tears
Found solace in an ever inviting empty bathtub

Where pounding fists
Rattled bathroom door hinges
While a child hid beneath a bed
Smiling tearful thanks
To a wanderlust roach
His ever-faithful friend

All yours

Here
Where a Sammy Glick got started
And an undergrad
An engineer
A Radical leftist
A piano teacher
All touched
All turned
All once secured your keys

So

Add your imprint
Become tomorrow’s remembered page
Life's photo albums know no end
This is Manhattan
Scenes will erupt
Sameness will repeat
Life will live
Maybe live some more

Then

Your turn to pass the keys
Your turn to pile worn memories at the curb
Mattresses always appreciated
Stand across the street
Watch the ever-smiling Super
Hand the keys to the next habitant
And then…

Go

Never to forget your contribution
Leaving behind another preparatory memory
Allowing the coming year
Your next season of imaginings
To dream of another home
Somewhere
Waiting…

Gifted with keyless entry?
Loneliness gone?






 


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Reviewed by Budd Nelson
Reviewed on August 26, 2013
so true, have been there and so agree
budd

Reviewed on August 25, 2013
a brilliant rant, having lived in a few cities and held many an apartment key I can appreciate this greatly! The walls do tell stories (sometimes the closets) of lives lived. And the thought of starting off in your small corner moving on to the suburbs only to find yourself back at square one. That there is a story/poem. These keys can pull you down with the weight, not just in nyc.

Reviewed by Ronald Hull
Reviewed on August 25, 2013
I have never lived in the city except when I stayed at the Y while at the University of Wisconsin listening to Paul Simon's “I Am a Rock” from my fourth floor window. I never was so lonely in my entire life.

Your poem imbues this kind of loneliness. The prison that city living makes of housing that many spend a lifetime enduring, where only the street gives them freedom to be. There's also some hope in the form of, “moving on up,” to a better life in the city once one “makes it.” So few do.

Keyless entry used to be common. It is gradually leaving us for a preference for high security enclaves.

Ron

Reviewed by Michael True
Reviewed on August 24, 2013
Your work is art Odin. Mixing the sharpest of images with the emotional infusion of perfect scenes, moving. M.True

Reviewed by Jerry Bolton
Reviewed on August 24, 2013
Ahhh, Odin, the New York Experience. I do so remember my venture into the city. My small town Arkansas naivety and the Big Apple's delights consumed me for two years. Met Nanette from Flushing. Married Nanette, moved to Flushing, then to Lynbrook. L.I. A lot happened. I left New York, but still carry fantastic memories with me. I thoroughly enjoyed this, and understood it better than if I'd never walked the streets of that city.


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