Poetry Forum

Long way yet to porters' rest A moment's succor be found; Sweet relief for atrophied tendrils; Burning skin to cool a bit; Sun's relentless foundry; Churning up radiation. Trudging up pitted tracks; Dare not backward glance; Load on head, load on heart; Burden of hopelessness prevail; Grotesque mout...

Bombadil wrote:Nair,

What inspired you to dig this puppy up?

-B.

Brilliance, B, Brilliance !

The Cannibal Tramp in drunken stupor sauntered; Swaggering and careless; Blue levy pants dirty and stained; Reeking of grease and five cent rot-gut; Unawares of snares waited for prey; Up went his legs, flailing hands clutched air; He has been had, neatly too. Giant legs marched out of bushes; Round...

It is difficult to follow the drift of the narrator. Apparently, he has been a juvenile delinquent and was for a time an inmate of a correctional institution where he was subjected to harsh treatment. He brags about his smoking and glares at passers by. He attributes his faults to an early life in t...