I. I once took a hiatus from work, But now I’m back on track. Good thing… II. In the bleak New England midwinter, he takes solace in the spring-like warmth of a moist day. The soothing wind wafts the indescribable spring smell into his nostrils and through his body, rejuvenating him. He steps lighter, craning his neck toward the endless blue sky, intoxicatingly beautiful with its racing, popcornish clouds, Against which a sole crow soars and utters its grotesque, guttural call in sheer enjoyment of a beautiful, moist, spring-smelly day. III. As we sat face-to-face on her bed, I took her cold hand that, then, felt so different than in the months past. We would take things easy, but part of her is part of me, eternal. We would take a break, and think. And I will think of much, many, and me. I will think of cherished solitude, being content with gawking at the formidable night sky, and with endlessly pondering existence. I will think of her, and the past years of sublime joy. Or I will think of you, who occupies my thoughts during the school day and beyond, and of your lucid eyes, as intoxicating as the dry summer sky, Or I will think of you whose passion I share, whose big, brown eyes display the love in our friendship, Or maybe of you, friend, with whom my dreams were realized, and achieved, Or of you, and the bus trip from Toledo to Madrid, and our talks there, And most certainly, of you, “Crazy Walt,” with whom I share nearly all. IV. PURE, ANIMAL SHRIEK! House, home, parents, school, teachers, auditions, people: ENOUGH! Let me be! V. I escape the oppressive summer day sickly sun burning through the white sky into my car, windows down, jazz loud, to chase the sunset to the lakeside-- to catch glimpse of the last orange droplet behind the advancing grey monsters of the west soon they grumble and spit c o o l d r o p s and cast brilliant bolts toward the water and as soon as it all gusts over my head, the clouds part and offer to me the stars, to which I look in awe from the damp, sandy shore it is cool and it smells good after the rain Op. 2 finished 4/6/97
Reason for writing:
This is an interesting child of mine. This poem is a look at some of the events of my senior year in high school. Presently I am a college freshman.
I really started to get into poetry in my AP English class last year, especially after discovering Walt Whitman, whose Leaves of Grass is my bible.
I didn't know to where I was headed with this piece. I had only written one poem before, that was an assignment for the course. I was compelled to write something, and I
believe part II came first. This merely describes the elation of a reprieve from winter, one that is always welcome. The first part came soon after as a bitter reply to
my English teacher's comments on my progress report. It was at this point that I saw I could merge the two into one poem, and I saw that I could compose perhaps a set of
variations on the word hiatus. Part III came shortly thereafter with the end of a three-year relationship with my girlfriend and my realization of a strong crush
on a beautiful human being. The fourth part was a culmination of the frustration, usually experienced around mid-Macrh, of senior year. And the last part was just another
pastoral scene of sorts. I'd love any feedback! I look back, and a couple of lines seem somewhat sappy, but this was what I was feeling and was what I was inspired to write
then, so I'm not out to change anything.
Birth sign: Not entered
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