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Ode To Unexpected Guests...........c\c?
It all began one frenzied day,
I tried to organize.
And boxed the items humans hoard,
For guests would soon arrive.
The back room, once reserved for guests
Was now a storage tomb.
The creaking door, a warning to
The hazards in the gloom.
I weaved my way through disarray
And pulled the curtains back,
As light cascaded, beamed, confused,
Half thwarted in its tracks.
A long, glass covered dresser top
I swore to never use.
For fear the weight of boxes stacked
would crack it if abused.
I found a place and stacked the box
And turned to leave the mess.
I spotted, center dresser top
A housefly, still, at rest.
No common housefly this, I thought.
I gently stroke his wing.
I tiny grain of ice fell loose
And heard it gently sing.
The sun revealed a rainbow glow
of color on the glass,
Then silence fell, its legs bent in,
I knew that it had passed.
I called my neighbor, 83
A teacher once was he.
I told him of my special find.
He came excitedly.
He seemed amazed at what we had.
I asked from where it came,
"The Jet Stream was its ticket here",
And spoke the Country's name.
When you went down to get your mail
He landed on your back.
So tossed and worn, those many weeks
Attempts to fly he lacked.
He mustered strength to leave your back
When you were in this room.
He saw the glowing empty top
And died there, I assume.
I let him take this special find.
He turned to bid goodbye.
Then said, "The Country where it's from,
Their called 'The Singing Fly' ".
I didn't tell him of it's death
And of its final song.
Some moments special, in our hearts
Remain where they belong.
As I awoke one day last week
I felt that I had wept
A dream my memory swept to where
forgotten dreams are kept
EDIT...
S-6, L-3...First word should be "A", not "I" (A tiny grain of ice fell loose)
Thanks
Gene.
I ad-libbed this straight onto the question site (Not a good idea)
I wound up with verses out of order, spending most of my time
rearranging into the correct order. It was late, I was sleepy
and a couple of typo's and "their" instead of "they're"
and "I" instead of "A" slipped passed my sleepy eyes.
I should have written it in notepad, then copy and paste.
...but that's another story.
This was originally intended as a "ghost" poem, but that
soon evaporated (as ghosts have a habit of doing).
Many thanks for your generous and insightful responses.
Gene.
@ Nancy
Great, insightful question, "Is this about a fly"
Metaphors are many in this poem, and they are
subtle and meant for you to find and keep.
15 Answers
- ?Lv 59 years agoFavorite Answer
Gene your poems are one of the reasons I stay with YAP. I receive a real education
here . I have learned more on this site than in any poetry class. Your imagination helps me to stretch mine.... What a very special poem this is. I thank you for posting it; you motivate me to keep trying, but I know I will never come near your talent . Please keep posting, I will be searching.
- THE BANNIBAL ONELv 79 years ago
uninvited guests,,uh huh its 6 AM..TBO goes to sleep at 4 usually.
already changed a flat on a acquaintances car.
I guess this poem is about me? Or my guest?
Very happy poem about a singing fly..
very dreamlike.
- ?Lv 79 years ago
Gene
If I were to take a perfect flat rock on both sides, and throw it across a tranquil lake, and this rock skipped perfectly across, like a well written poem with an impeccable meter, then I would have this poem.
Certainly ranks up there with one of the best I have seen from you.
If I had a criticism in your case it worked to your advantage, tantamount to a 3 hour movie I usually would not watch unless it was something like Saving Private Ryan or Pearl Harbor. For almost anyone else it may have been a bit too long but with yours I was sorry to see it end.
Note: you may get a laugh here, but made a little boo-boo reading the first stanza and did a double take.....L3 at first read "And boxed the human hoard" Say What? then realized I messed up and got back on track. lol
Congrats!
__________________________________________________________
- PANDORA ΠανδώραLv 79 years ago
This poem has got be one of my favourites.
The treasure you found, reminds me of the treasure
I found, in you as a poet and as a friend...
A while back I decided to go through and organise
all my cookery books which are shelved near the
back door, leading into the garden.
Behind some of the books, I found a frog, totally
dried out, but perfect. I can only imagine the awful
suffering, of perhaps trying to find a way out...
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- cassie58Lv 79 years ago
Very much enjoyed this read Gene. So visual, I felt I was in that room with you when you discovered the fly. How sensitive of you to consider the fly, I'm not sure I would have paid it any attention. Probably would have hoovered it up without a thought. Nice writing.
- Anonymous9 years ago
These are the things in life that make life and what its all about. They make you think and its such a wonderful thing to happen. you wonder why you got the opportunity to experience such an event. thats why i like deja vue experiences, they are as wonderous and finding this singing fly. if not for guests who was supposed to come you would never have found it untill it was dust.Things like this really happen and all you can do is tell others but you cant convey the wonder of it to them , the awe of being chosen to experience it. how you keep the wonder of it your yourself because it is so special and makes you for a while feel special.
- Anonymous9 years ago
Is this really all about a fly?
I wandered into that space and was thinking "oh my!" this is the act of someone who is in the beginning stages of hoarding but then
you showed compassion for the furniture,
and sunlight on a bugs wing...
and we were transformed into a dream
... and now I wonder if any of it was real
last night,
I do not think I slept at all,
a lot of memories
places - where I've been displayed upon the walls of my
mind
- ?Lv 79 years ago
Oh, my,Gene - this is a weepy
to keep-y, indeed.
I was peeping behind you when you let in the sunlight.,
so inviting were the words.
Am unsure - and does it matter ? - how much is metaphor.
"For now, your caress, its`last flight, to transcendence bringing -
The little creature`s in a rock `n roll band, so celestially singing.` Amen
- 9 years ago
The content confused me insofar as specifics. What I did comprehend, pushed me to the end of the poem.
I felt like I was reading about all of my many failures with poetry... coming into a world that was over my head, but a world that I wanted nothing more than to contain within my head (awkward. don't look)
... my much less frequent visits ... whenever I show up, I'm as useful as a blind man in an abyss.
Thanks for poeming. That sh, was wild.
- lovechildLv 79 years ago
Extraordinary! I love the peculiar slants placed between the fly, yourself, and the neighbor. I will read this again and again to pick up on the subtleties.