Jump to content
  • Join Gay Authors

    Join us for free and follow your favorite authors and stories.

    Parker Owens
  • Author
  • 669 Words
  • 1,528 Views
  • 20 Comments
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

2017 - Spring - Unintended Consequences & Jagged Edges Entry

Jagged Edges Sounds - 1. Dissonants

Poems for 'Jagged Edges' in 2017. I do not think they require warnings.

The Maker

 

He labors in his workshop all the day,

a craftsman best acquainted with his tools

to bend and fashion wood as it were clay,

or wiser men made over into fools.

So he regarded me, unfinished steel,

to make of me as inspiration chose,

regardless of the hurt I'd surely feel

when laid upon the saw, for so it goes.

Recoil against the whirling, screaming blade

which severs neatly, delicate and plain;

those in the maker's hand cannot evade

the bite of metal, cutting unto pain.

It's little consolation to my heart

the one I love will tear my soul apart.

 

 

 

Trash

 

Prelude

 

Old attic discards

wait patiently by the road,

writing histories.

 

 

Fugue

 

Items

sit on the curb,

get scavenged and reclaimed; Look more

in time, most find new uses and carefully at

warm homes; what people throw away

one such and you may discover untold

watches traffic pass slowly by, treasure;

growing ever surer even

of the fire or the most unlikely looking box

landfill. can contain enchantments

to captivate

the heart.

 

 

 

 

House Fire

 

It started in my workroom, so they say,

and spread to that tight closet where I keep

my adolescent scrapbooks tucked away,

where treasured recollections make me weep.

The conflagration ran beneath the floor,

consuming rooms grown comfortable with age,

destroying every wall and fastened door

which kept me safely locked within my cage.

Now as you sift the ashes that remain,

perhaps you'll find a snapshot of my youth,

recalling I had all the world to gain

if only I had realized the truth.

The crumbling chimney, gaunt beneath the sky

must warn you of the fires by which we die.

 

 

Trees

 

Cottonwoods give in,

bowing to water and wind,

laying down to sleep;

 

Poplars will resist,

waving limbs in youthful rage,

till one of them snaps;

 

Swamp Maples rip

in fibrous, twisted tangles,

exposing sinews;

 

Firs tip drunkenly,

feet lifted high in the air,

showing their secrets;

 

Oaks drop arms and legs,

or else break in half outright,

revealing the heart.

 

 

 

 

Overtime

 

Four bills

carelessly dropped

on the shabby table,

visible from where he lies prone

beneath;

these are

timepieces of his existence,

clocks which measure his hours,

but cannot weigh

his pain.

If these move or touch you, I'd love to know about that.
Copyright © 2017 Parker Owens; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 13
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

2017 - Spring - Unintended Consequences & Jagged Edges Entry
You are not currently following this author. Be sure to follow to keep up to date with new stories they post.

Recommended Comments

Chapter Comments

3 hours ago, Valkyrie said:

I also loved the juxtaposition in Prelude and especially Fugue.  It was like a duet, where the words entwine and harmonize together.  I found the visuals of the trees particularly striking.  These are all gems, though.  Very well done, sir.  You continue to outdo yourself.  :worship:

 

It's a new idea, but it certainly lends itself to that musical metaphor. Glad you liked that experiment. As for trees, their late winter figures invited inspection and reflection. Thanks so much.,.

  • Like 5

There are all kinds of poetry, and I understand you love and practice all the forms, but personally, I care less about the form and more about the message and emotions a poem evokes. To me, these seem less fettered, like you removed some shackles. I hope that doesn't offend. I like all you stuff, but each one of these, while structured, had a directness and simplicity I relate best to.  

 

The Maker... 

"to bend and fashion wood as it were clay, 

or wiser men made over into fools." This was my clue as to where the poem led, and it was perfect in how it tied in to the end. A superb rendering, Parker.

 

Overtime...

Might be my favorite... it needs no explanation. You paint a picture, stark and harsh, in the most beautiful way. No word is wasted here :worship: 

 

Prelude, and Fugue...

Objects, kept or discarded, paint our history. We all understand both the letting go... the cleansing... and the finding of treasures. This one warms me, for I believe treasured things have power, and it's transferable...  

 

"one such                                             

 

watches traffic pass slowly by,                                            

 

growing ever surer                                                                   

 

of the fire or                                     

 

landfill."  Not every thing or every person gets a second chance... there is a sadness to this reality, but it completes the picture. Wonderful!  Another favorite :) 

 

Housefire...

The most structured, yet it is not at all rigid. The message I got is how quickly loss can occur, and how unprepared we usually are for it... hindsight is a wonderfully useless thing sometimes :) 

 

Trees...

You know my affinity for nature, so of course this appealed to me. It is an active portrayal of how different trees react to an attack... but for me, this went further. This I relate to us humans, and how we all react differently to stress, loss, and pain. The trees were a metaphor of sorts... a powerful one. Another favorite.

 

It's a collection to be proud of, Parker. There were no passengers here. Each one had its own merit. Sorry for going on... I thank you for these... cheers... Gary....

  • Like 3

'It's little consolation to my heart 

 

the one I love will tear my soul apart.'

 

These lines are from "The Maker". I think I like this poem the best, especially the last two lines. Isn't it so true though, that the ones we love the most, hurt us the most.

 

Parker, all these poems are amazing in their own way. Your ability to create such wonderful poetry amazes me. Awesome job, Parker! :)

  • Like 2
On May 18, 2017 at 0:27 PM, Headstall said:

There are all kinds of poetry, and I understand you love and practice all the forms, but personally, I care less about the form and more about the message and emotions a poem evokes. To me, these seem less fettered, like you removed some shackles. I hope that doesn't offend. I like all you stuff, but each one of these, while structured, had a directness and simplicity I relate best to.  

 

The Maker... 

"to bend and fashion wood as it were clay, 

or wiser men made over into fools." This was my clue as to where the poem led, and it was perfect in how it tied in to the end. A superb rendering, Parker.

 

Overtime...

Might be my favorite... it needs no explanation. You paint a picture, stark and harsh, in the most beautiful way. No word is wasted here :worship: 

 

Prelude, and Fugue...

Objects, kept or discarded, paint our history. We all understand both the letting go... the cleansing... and the finding of treasures. This one warms me, for I believe treasured things have power, and it's transferable...  

 

"one such                                             

 

watches traffic pass slowly by,                                            

 

growing ever surer                                                                   

 

of the fire or                                     

 

landfill."  Not every thing or every person gets a second chance... there is a sadness to this reality, but it completes the picture. Wonderful!  Another favorite :) 

 

Housefire...

The most structured, yet it is not at all rigid. The message I got is how quickly loss can occur, and how unprepared we usually are for it... hindsight is a wonderfully useless thing sometimes :) 

 

Trees...

You know my affinity for nature, so of course this appealed to me. It is an active portrayal of how different trees react to an attack... but for me, this went further. This I relate to us humans, and how we all react differently to stress, loss, and pain. The trees were a metaphor of sorts... a powerful one. Another favorite.

 

It's a collection to be proud of, Parker. There were no passengers here. Each one had its own merit. Sorry for going on... I thank you for these... cheers... Gary....

 

Gary, I am completely undone by this generous and extended commentary. I thank you for taking the time to read this small collection at length. 'Trees' was the last one written, and came directly from a walk in the early spring woods, as you might guess. The sadness you talk about in 'Prelude and Fugue' is sometimes quite palpable. I wonder if that is what makes me a pack rat. 'Overtime' very nearly stayed in the notebook; yet its harsh glare fit the theme too well to leave it there. 'Housefire' held many deep and personal metaphors and memories. If they came through at all, then well and good. 'The Maker' also held ideas - and perhaps it tells us how much good and harm we can do to one another, as makers to each other. You were so very kind to react to these, and I am very, very grateful.

  • Like 3
7 hours ago, Lisa said:

'It's little consolation to my heart 

 

the one I love will tear my soul apart.'

 

These lines are from "The Maker". I think I like this poem the best, especially the last two lines. Isn't it so true though, that the ones we love the most, hurt us the most.

 

Parker, all these poems are amazing in their own way. Your ability to create such wonderful poetry amazes me. Awesome job, Parker! :)

 

Thanks so much for your reading and commentary. As I said in another response, I think 'The Maker' can be read in a number of ways, as it contains many metaphors. To me, it also says much about how we can hurt or bless our relationships, as we are makers to each other. Again, thanks for reading.

  • Like 2
View Guidelines

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now


  • Newsletter

    Sign Up and get an occasional Newsletter.  Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.

    Sign Up
×
×
  • Create New...