Poetry Thursday: The Streets
CBS.CBS.CBS
is scrawled across the playground wall
in loopy letters, on torn notebook paper
crumpled in balls, across the windows
shuttered by cinderblocks in the lost
brick houses.
Calhoun. Baker. Stricker.
Calhoun. Baker. Stricker.
This trio of streets
makes a crooked U
a territory, a calling card
Whoa CBS the kids chant
beats falling off their hands
like the skip of an irregular heart.
This is home
this spot on the map
a strand of hair on a head
compared to the rest of
the wide and glorious world.
No one needs the Mississippi
or the Amazon, no one dreams
of France or Nepal.
These distant specks could be
Mars or Atlantis
so out of reach
from everyday hands.
But there will be some
who crave a slit of sky
trace the constellations
with an index finger
stroking the curve
of the earth.
CBS
This is the world.
This is the beginning.
is scrawled across the playground wall
in loopy letters, on torn notebook paper
crumpled in balls, across the windows
shuttered by cinderblocks in the lost
brick houses.
Calhoun. Baker. Stricker.
Calhoun. Baker. Stricker.
This trio of streets
makes a crooked U
a territory, a calling card
Whoa CBS the kids chant
beats falling off their hands
like the skip of an irregular heart.
This is home
this spot on the map
a strand of hair on a head
compared to the rest of
the wide and glorious world.
No one needs the Mississippi
or the Amazon, no one dreams
of France or Nepal.
These distant specks could be
Mars or Atlantis
so out of reach
from everyday hands.
But there will be some
who crave a slit of sky
trace the constellations
with an index finger
stroking the curve
of the earth.
CBS
This is the world.
This is the beginning.
Labels: poetry thursday
posted by Emily at 7:51 PM
11 Comments:
you know, i've missed you.
nice one today.
Interesting how CBS can have such power.
Nice hometown feel to this poem.
Creative use of the streetnames, too!
This makes me feel really at home. The world is as big as the street your house is on when you're little. I love it.
'But there will be some
who crave a slit of sky
trace the constellations
with an index finger
stroking the curve
of the earth."
Love this.
Yes, you have been missed. Hope to read more of you in 2007!
The last stanza really grabbed me.
Happy 2007...
This was wonderful- it felt so familiar. I like the idea of tracing the constellations with an index finger- in fact, I think I did that as a kid!
Oh, those last two..."No one needs the Mississippi..." and "But there will be some..." make me smile. Inspiring, E.
I agree with the above sentiments - some lovely language in this.
Great poem Em! xoxo, AMPC
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