Help | About | Suggestions | Alms | Chat [0] | Users [0] | Log In | Join
 Search:
Poem: Submit | Random | Best | Worst | Recent | Comments   

Dublin, 4-10-04 (Prose Poem) by myles
"wear the white trousers", My mother said. Which brought to mind My grandfather, long dead. He had worn grey plaid, How then could I wear white? He knew his own failures, While I hide from the light. Still I see the bright pants, Crisp and warm and clean. My mother tells me "wear them", And I know I will give in.

Up the ladder: no rashes

You must be logged in to leave comments. Vote:

Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
 GraphVotes
10  .. 00
.. 00
.. 01
.. 10
.. 00
.. 10
.. 00
.. 00
.. 00
.. 00
.. 10

Arithmetic Mean: 5.0
Weighted score: 5.0
Overall Rank: 7804
Posted: October 3, 2004 3:58 PM PDT; Last modified: October 3, 2004 3:58 PM PDT
View voting details
Comments:
[5] zodiac @ 212.118.14.17 | 4-Oct-04/4:55 AM | Reply
The Hughes and McDannells
In Glasgow wear flannels,
The Marches in Carisle wear tweeds;

But all of them doff 'em
For Foul Sue of Poffham
And seem (but aren't quite) the same breed.
134 view(s)




Track and Plan your submissions ; Read some Comics ; Get Paid for your Poetry
PoemRanker Copyright © 2001 - 2024 - kaolin fire - All Rights Reserved
All poems Copyright © their respective authors
An internet tradition since June 9, 2001