We were so poor my mum used wax
from my ears to make a candle,
while we took turns heating hands
on its single flame.
They couldn't afford to give me a name
so for years I never knew who I was.
Eons passed the door, while the fire
stored in my belly grew.
It became too ludicrously late
to make no-one into someone
so what couldn't be heard, I observed,
peering into the dying flame,
murmuring the name nobody claimed.
24 Jan 08
Rated 10 (7.1) by 4 users.
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this is my favourite by you. i really loved the images in the first stanza.
You have blown in on a lyrical wind and become my friend for life.
Larry drifting Lark
i must agree this is most excellent. keep up the good work.
I don't know why, but I though of 'ceiling' wax.
Anyway, despite my idiotic thoughts,
I truly loved this poem! I've never read anything like it.
Whether it was punctuation or just style, I did have a few stumbles, so I had to read this about 4 times before I loved it.
thank you for writing.
yes, quite splendid.
good poem, larry moth to the flame lark.
Weird concept, but good weird. 8
The first two lines made me laugh out loud....:-) Still grinning now! Love the use of "ludicrously" - it's very under-used and here works to great effect. The last few lines had my head aching trying to work out who was doing what.....were you watching the flame? The name was in the flame? Where was the name? Whatever, I love this....very entertaining and mysterious.
too ludicrously late
too ludicrously late
too ludicrously late
what does this mean???
i suppose that there is the possibility of being ludicrously late, but not overly ludicrously late? an acceptable level of ludicrously late?
as soon as i read it i stopped. stopped dead and thought, wow that really sounds weird. i gave it another 3 goes and no change. it's a nice poem and all, but yeah. i even tried the define words function to see perhaps there's some obscure reference there, and the contextual example it provided was actually relevant to the poem!
I'm probably just being dense, but this seems more like a riddle than a poem.
the first two stanzas made me think of oliver twist or huck finn, and of an overwhelming poorness. but then i realized it's more, with the 3rd stanza and its expression of a sad incapacity of change and watching himself die. i like the metaphors. actually, the entire poem.
I suppose there does become a time when it becomes 'ludicrously late' to leave a child without a name - I think that's very well expressed. In fact the whole poem is a really well-constructed and finished piece - I love it.
i came back to pc for this.
HAHAHAHAHAHA! What a wonderful beginning! I can just picture some kid bent over a table while the mom dug into his ears!
Oh, my, the rest is rather sad and tragic. I don't know who the writer is yet but I am amazed at the creativity.
Ah, I should have recognized your voice.
l5 i like it
the imagery here is gorgeous and vivid.
The idea came from a game people play here in the North of England about who was the poorest when they were a kid and is influenced by a poem by Charles Simic whose title escapes me.
Larry we were so poor me ate invisible food when we were small Lark
I will try my very hardest, honestly
Larry beads of perspiration Lark
One of the things that inspired this poem was staring into a candle at Christmas and watching the smoke drift up and along the ceiling, so you are in the right area.
Larry candle in the wind Lark
Like everything but L11
Gorgeously written and such a beautiful concept/image created! I am in awe.
you were right about L11, thanks for your observation.
I'll go get the Q-Tips. :-) Wow, Larry...this one, for me, is in the "Pig Speak" vain. It's so powerful and you put it right out there. I'm a big fan of this style of your writing. It just kicks you in the balls from the first line to the last. I dig L's 7-8's "fire stored in my belly grew." That, in itself, says so much. As always, you remain one of my favorite poets on the face of the planet. Thanks 4 that. Love, Starr (who's too lazy and tired after work to even bother logging in.)
I mean "Pig Speak" vein. I spelled it like someone who's "vain." Ma bad! Wanted to come back and correct my spelling like a good doobie. Nite. :-) -Starr
We were so poor my mum used wax 1
from my ears to make a candle, <<<
This doesn't work for me.
It's something that is too far out to be believed.
Akin to a bad metaphor that leaves one thinking,
Your poem appears rushed and makes no sense
even in the metaphorical sense.
Knowing oneself has little to do with a name and
besides it's utterly impossible to not have a name.
It's both illegal and too far fetched.
I would guess this poem took all of five minutes
to write. In essence it's a few loose thoughts
that make little or no sense with very little
I'd keep the idea, throw the poem away, and start again.
I already did.
Larry bonfire of his vanities lark
Thanks for the splendid, I took a photo of it but it didn't know what it was.
Larry chancer Lark
If i could express in words how much your continued support means to me then I would.
larry searching for truffles lark
Ending is nice... I'm not sure about the start of this poem
This is excellent--i just can't stop reading it.
hey, i really like this. well done!
I recommend that you extend your reading beyond the song of lark
Larry beano Lark
Thanks for the comment
Larry pleased as punch Lark
i dont buy this. but i dont know why.
i dont mean literally. im not stupid, i
just don't buy it, s'all.
Its not for sale
Larry selling plate Lark
ludicrously (L9) flat out doesn't fit the diction of the rest of the poem. take it out.
josh, do it: "lew-de-cruss-lee late" and imagine the voice got it from a jerry springer comment.
I'll take it
Larry not proud lark
very Charles Simic.
watch out. when you grow uop she'll make a toupee out of your earwigs
sorry. not read th thread. and only made ti htru stanza one.
gooseberry jam is my middle name
pram, my last
i've missed this, larry.
good to read this again, hahaha...
I wax and i wane and I'm always insane
Larry nameless Laark
Love L5. Lovely and somewhat heartbreaking Mr. Lark.
I was always heartbroken. I learned it off my mother
Larry sympathy for the devil Lark
haha beautiful lies.