I’m still standing here
Poetry Writing Contest response
Here’s a poem that started as a fun experiment into the 28-line French ballade and ended with me feeling like nothing.
Overlooking the infinite of sea,
A man asking for more than he could chew,
He finds happiness in insanity,
Pandemonium till he is thirty-two.
On Saturdays he is wearing his wounds,
He blinks twice and off goes another year,
Like the waves he will meet his maker soon,
Unlike the waves, he is still standing here.
Screaming bloody murder for the paths he
Didn’t take, wavering silence, lies and truth,
The son and father sharing a softy,
Reaching out to taste is all he could do.
Who could forget the sight of his choo-choo,
Running through make believe stations unclear,
The frail Sun ain’t mighty enough for you,
Unlike the Sun, he is still standing here.
He sees a familiar face by the beam,
She returns a battered, unpolished shoe.
Joining the faceless herd, she just recedes,
Birds they fly to the end and recede too.
He blinks twice and here emerges the moon,
Two silhouettes hand in hand, distant cheer,
The moon ain’t persistent enough for you,
For unlike the moon, he’s still standing here.
One by one they topple, from March to June,
Endless cars they speed away without fear,
Without rhyme or reason, they choose to steer,
No rhyme or reason, I’m still standing here.
Thank you for reading.
