Expectations, A prose poem Options

[Guest_jayjay_*]

'Have expectations.  Boredom is the thief of time.  Get experience.'

Signposts from elders in my stone-kicking, apple stealing, string-keeping days.  I listened, in fond belief that age equalled wisdom.

I crowded time, as manically unbored as I was fit to be.

Tracked Hazard and his bony greyhounds to see them run down a bounding hare in dew wet, see-your-breath fields.  They never.

Kissed Lorraine against a chestnut tree in the back field until we both turned blue, afraid to quit, and my tea getting cold on the linoed table.

Learned Latin.  Sang it, at slow mass while Summer hedges frothed with life and fish surrendered to friends.  Equated algebra with the geometry of bonfires, biology with experiments in solitude.

Ran 'thank you' runs to the bookies and collected when George fluked a lift. Heard him spin his winnings from a two bob double into gold.  Watched as he told cronies and as they rolled their rheumy eyes and sighed.

Saw farmers with dull razorblades castrate baby pigs and pretend I wasn't close to vomiting.

Said prayers.  Gave pennies one Lenten week for black babies - white the next.  Kept back an occasional copper and felt its burning recrimination - until spent.

Couldn't understand, but wouldn't say, how Jesus could be born at Christmas, dead by Easter, and miracled and parabled the time between.

Read everything with writing on.  Red-edged books with garish covers Mum said weren't really Dad's, he was minding them for a friend.

They asked, once in a while, how I spent my time.  I shrugged skinny shoulders and couldn't say.  

[JustDaniel]

A very poignant piece of wisdom that you learned following the advice of the elders... just not the wisdom that you expected.

Wisdom is coming to the recognition that you don't really know enough to have much! [ - according to me ]

I thoroughly enjoyed this read, JJ!  You'd have to translate some of your vernacular to me, but I certainly get the gist.  You've some (in my view) brilliant lines here.

deLightingly, Daniel  :sun:

[Guest_Jox_*]

JJ, Hi,

Good to see the Nobel Literature Laureate in your signature!

This time, I have seen your sub-heading. I agree this is a prose poem. Though, again, it is better set-out than most I have seen. (My last word on the pigeon-hole business which I don’t really believe in anyway).

There is a song by Genesis, the chorus I remember well... “Don’t live today for tomorrow, like you were immortal...”

>>'Have expectations. Boredom is the thief of time. Get experience.'

Good advice, but from there thngs go wrong.

String-keeping? How do people keep string or have I missed a metaphor?

>>Tracked Hazard

Tracked - greyhounds, sure. Hazard?

>>Kissed Lorraine against a chestnut tree in the back field until we both turned blue, afraid to quit, and my tea getting cold on the linoed table.

The choices of childhood! I remember those plastic table cloths.

>>Learned Latin. Sang it, at slow mass while Summer hedges frothed with life and fish surrendered to friends. Equated algebra with the geometry of bonfires, biology with experiments in solitude.

Now, the above sentence is the nub of this poem. The lost opportunities; the lost life. Good writing.

>> Ran 'thank you' runs to the bookies and collected when George fluked a lift. Heard him spin his winnings from a two bob double into gold. Watched as he told cronies and as they rolled their rheumy eyes and sighed.

I didn’t understand this paragraph... George won but the first sentence confused me.

>>Kept back an occasional copper and felt its burning recrimination - until spent.

Great sentence.

>>Read everything with writing on. Red-edged books with garish covers Mum said weren't really Dad's, he was minding them for a friend.

Also, we all have convenient friends, don’t we. Also, my patents had those pulp fiction paperbacks with the sexually-suggestive covers. I remember sneaking them away to for my friend to read. My friend told me that the books were always disappointing.

>>They asked, once in a while, how I spent my time. I shrugged skinny shoulders and couldn't say.

A misspent academic youth, if ever there was one.

Well done JJ, Most skilful.

[Guest_jayjay_*]

Thank you Daniel.  Ah, wisdom.  I wish I knew now what I thought I knew then.  Some of the vernacular is explained in the post to James.

JJ

[Guest_jayjay_*]

Hi, James.  Thanks for the read and the reply.

'Things go wrong'.  For the poem or the boy?

'String keeping'.  No you didn't, you wouldn't, miss a metaphor.  Don't tell me you didn't keep a pocket full of string and marbles and fluffy sweets.  

Hazard is a reasonably common name around here and there was a man who kept greyhounds though I don't think that was his name.

A 'thank you' was how kids were paid for the endless errands neighbours sent them on.  In other words, despite winning, no payment was made.

Those books.  They always seemed to flop open at particularly interesting passages.  Or at least they did when I'd finished with them.

I hope things are a little clearer.  Thanks again for the comments.

JJ

[Guest_Jox_*]

Hi JJ, thank you for the info.

(I do miss some metaphors, honest!)

Sorry about the ambiguity... things go wrong for the subject; very right for the poem. I liked the poem a lot.

No, I never owned any string, nor marbles and wasn't allowed many sweets. All that, of course, explains much about me now! Mind, you, I am still pondering that string. Budding surgeon? Tight-rope walking insects?

James.

[Guest_Toumai_*]

Hi JJ,

This is wonderful. I love the 'string-keeping' image (my son always has Blu-Tac in his pockets - drives me crazy), and the greyhounds that never catch anything, lol. It's hard to pick what I like 'best'; each line has a new delight, a new perspective, a new mood as the narrator grows. I'm lucky enough to have an Irish Step Mother (I can make no further comment, having passed her the MM web address! ), so I have no problem with (most) of your language use. No suggestions - simply appreciation.

Best wishes,
Fran

[Guest_jayjay_*]

Thanks very much, Fran.  Keeping pieces of string seemed to run in the family.  I remember my Mum carefully unknotting the cheap string on any parcel that came into the house, even that hairy stuff that I, as chief connoisseur, wouldn't have about me.  

I too have spread the word about MM and hope to have at least one more member to join our elite group.  I appreciate the comments and look forward to your step-mother's input.

JJ

[Guest_Cathy_*]

Reading books you weren't supposed to be reading?  LOL  This is a good write, I enjoyed reading it.

Cathy  :dove:  :holly:

[Guest_jayjay_*]

Thank you, LG.  I enjoyed writing this.  Books ran through my hands and the ones I wasn't meant to read were always the best.  Funny, that.  I appreciate your comments, and your time in reading this.

JJ