I saw him with his hand to his brow
and he was searching, this man called Red-
he was looking for the next tide, the winds or you
he wore a blue cap that cast a shadow over his rounded face
I thought he was golfing,
but there was too much water there for those things
and I knew he was lost– yes, you can be lost at home, he said
he’s lost at home and just about everywhere he turns
but he does at least turn–
(turn with him)
Turning over and over in my bed
shifting into where his footprints still pressed into the soft ground
a track he left for me to foresee the way of things now
here, in this place so foreign to even an experienced traveler
but he knows that I never wanted to be here,
never wanted to confront the possibilities of temptations,
wearing both faded house dresses and sparkling ball gowns
but unsure of the occasion for either anymore,
a body too broken to care for such things–
but he needs you now–
(But he needs you now)
Red turned then into the sea
wearing the Atlantic round his shoulders in blue
and the cap upon his head and only space
where the golf clubs were supposed to be
only air hung now, long and swift it swung,
and he was breathless and timeless again
with earth on his sole and the gold coins
he collected when you were just a boy
hanging off the edge of his wings
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:-) Linda
Blessings J'nia
wearing the Atlantic round his shoulders in blue" - love these lines, Michelle.
Very creative and artistic images abound within your composition; truly fine writing.
Regis
The voice in this poem seemed to haunt well after I finished reading. Love your creativity, but I especially like the Atlantic line. Fantastic writing! Love and Hugs,
Sheila
The Man you call Red, wearing the Atlantic around his
shoulders, is unforgettable. -gene.
Bright blessings to you and yours,
Jim
I have enjoyed discovering this poem, line after line and love that "turn with him".
Axilea
Love,
Becca~
(((HUGS))), much love, and Merry Christmas to you~
As always, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
This is called art. As I read this I kept getting images in my mind, and feelings evoked by this, of perhaps oddly and definitely surprising to me if I may be honest, of sex and love! After reading this, I am baffled as to the difference, your imagery having evoked something unknown to me that blurred the lines between them.
All I do know is that I must read this again to be told which is which. But then again, how many men really know the difference between them?
Isn't this after all, what great art does for us? It makes us question our own concept of reality, by challenging the very premise of the reality of reality in the first place?
These scenes are reminiscent of the surreality of some of the late film director Stanley Kubrick's movies, like "The Shining", "Clock-Work Orange", "Full Metal-Jacket" and his final Masterpiece, with Tom and Nicole, "Eyes Wide Shut."
The reason I liked, "A Man Called Red," is because, like others of your work, you make the reader think, by layering your words with meaning that is none too clear, thereby allowing the reader to draw their own conclusions.
I would love to be in an artistic position to write a book with a visionary like you. This is the best work I have read of yours to date, and is I hope a leap forward to the next level of things to come for you.
Excellent.
Rockie Coppolella
Edwin
hugs
fee
In Christs Love
Michelle~
Waundering. . . . . .
Down by the shore
I wanted more (to read)
Doug