The Long Walk

I’m taking a quick break from the Memory Poems of my characters to post one of my own this week.  This was written during Poets at Play.

The Long Walk

She remembered hopping off the bus
some sixteen years ago
carrying her baby blue Jansport backpack
filled to the rim with binders and books,
something she bore on her shoulders
5 days a week, even in the rain.

It was raining then, water drops
came crashing down.  The wind
pushed her left and right.
It was as if Mother Storm
slapped her in the face with spit.

She opened her portable umbrella,
The useless flimsy thing
was no match for the wind,
being pulled inside out
this way and that way,
a broken fragile puppet of the wind.

She struggled to maintain control,
so it wouldn’t fly away,
while crossing the street
looking like a helpless mess,
as onlookers watched
from the safety of their cars.

Raindrops streamed down her face.
Rain pelted her clothes
from slanted angles.
Little drops of water
on her jeans 
were like dark blue dots
that grew into patches
that eventually covered the leg.

Her once dried socks
were wet and squishy.
Her once bright mood
became cloudy like the storm.
She made it home, soaking wet.

It was one of the longest

10 minute walks she’s ever taken
alone
with her friend, El Nino
during high school
in the early millennium.

Flash forward – 2016/2017,
the storm is coming,
school is closed.
Children deprived
of experiencing
these memories.

a-girlwalkinginrain
image from angelgran’s photobucket
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A Source of Inspiration

I never envisioned that my poetry would inspire someone else to create a piece of art, so I was surprised when a talented friend of mine (Patrick Lydon) decided to write some music based on a poem I had written.  Both the poem and the music were created in 2009.

The two musical creations:

Rainy Rainbow Day (mp3)

Lost and Insecure (mp3)

 

The original poem:

One-Hour Drive

It’s relaxing to drive
under the sprinkles,
listening to the radio
as you watch the rainbow
come out of the golden-vanilla sky
that’s semi-polluted
with chemicals
and you think to yourself,
“what a wonderful life.”

A road full of strangers
with one common goal,
the desire, the need, the want
to go some place,
to belong somewhere.

As they move forward,
spurts of water
splash your window,
blocking your vision,
leaving you behind.

The sky becomes grayer.
Life becomes bluer
as you stare at the massive freeways
looming above your head,
realizing how beautiful,
strong and solid they are,
how small and fragile you are,
sitting in your stylish little car.
And The Fray comes on,
“You found me, you found me …
lost and insecure.”

Mother’s Children

Through the storm they ran,
slipping and sliding
on the muddy hills.
It was a race home,
to see who could be the first
to receive hot cocoa,
and Mother’s warm embrace.

They longed to see
the flicker of light
in her eyes,
and hear
the soothing music
of her voice
in the comfort
of their home.

Yet the storm raged on,
with strong, heavy rain
that slashed their cheeks,
thunder that cackled
liked monsters,
wind that cried
like banshees,
lightning that blinded
their eyes,
while fear
crossed their hearts.
They may never
see Mother
again.

One-Hour Drive

The perfect poem for a rainy day

One-Hour Drive

It’s relaxing to drive
under the sprinkles,
listening to the radio
as you watch the rainbow
come out of the golden-vanilla sky
that’s semi-polluted
with chemicals
and you think to yourself,
“what a wonderful life.”

Rainbow on Freeway
A road full of strangers
with one common goal,
the desire, the need, the want
to go some place,
to belong somewhere.

As they move forward,
spurts of water
splash your window,
blocking your vision,
leaving you behind.

Rainy Drive
The sky becomes grayer.
Life becomes bluer
as you stare at the massive freeways
looming above your head,
realizing how beautiful,
strong and solid they are,
how small and fragile you are,
sitting in your stylish little car.
And The Fray comes on,
“You found me, you found me …
lost and insecure.”

Overpass
~ all images taken from Google