It is the cocktail hour.
Too late
for sneaking up the chimney, bounding
out of the bubbly, over the alley,
over the rooftops
of the human
race.
I am not one for saying grace.
I am not one for saying much of anything.
But I will Stand My Place.
I will hammer four stout nails
into the corners of my face.
I will call everyone Bob, and shake
each hand like an ape, and nod
at everyone and everything
to keep myself awake.
I will stay calm.
I will prop an elbow on the mantle,
and stand as if I wore a pistol.
I will allot myself one glass
and sip it all night long,
and no one will be the wiser.
I will say I am a poet
when they ask.
(They always do.)
My eyes will drive home, one by one,
a volley of wooden stakes.
I will be a lone white
poodle.
I will grow smaller
as the evening wears on,
until I disappear
out on the balcony,
where stars, I hear, are strewn for the take
like shimmering diamonds on blue velvet,
and thoughts achieve a strange attractive power;
where higher noon is upside down;
and the Moon...
the Moon is a silver dollar.
I will Stand My Place/..../ I will stay calm../// beautiful poem penned.
Shimmering diamonds on blue velvet! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
An eloquent soliloquy bout the attractive power that is strange too. Heartiest congrats on poem of the Day.
This whimsical poem captures a quirky cocktail hour commitment, blending playful language and charming imagery, from hammering nails to the moon as a silver dollar.
A free flight of creativity on winged imagination. Well articulated and elegantly brought forth - a work of an intricate mind. Thanks for sharing, Troy.
A one glass poet in a universe of his own. A poem of joy for all to read..
Great imagery. Well thought. Just awesome. Love it. Congrats to be selected as POD and grateful sharing it with us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
And I would be right up there on that balcony with you, gathering stars, because, like young Alessia Cara, I don't enjoy playing society's games, either. The soul screams for a chance to be authentic! (Alessia Cara, in her stance on individualism, was the topic/inspiration for my poem No Dime A Dozen. She is an amazing young recording artist who won't let the recording industry shove her into its mold.) Thnoughts, not idle cocktail chatter, possess a strange attractive power. Well done.
I had not heard of Alessia Cara before, so I hopped on Youtube and listened to one of her songs ~ How Far I'll Go. What a giant little singer! I love her voice! And now having read your poem ~ No Dime A Dozen ~ I see that you've done her great justice. It speaks highly of you. Well done to you as well! :)