New Year's Day Nap Poem by Coleman Barks
New Year's Day Nap
Fiesta Bowl on low.
My son lying here on the couch
on the 'Dad' pillow he made for me
in the Seventh Grade. Now a sophomore
at Georgia Southern, driving back later today,
he sleeps with his white top hat over his face.
I'm a dancin' fool.
Twenty years ago, half the form
he sleeps within came out of nowhere
with a million micro-lemmings who all died but one
piercer of membrane, specially picked to start a brainmaking,
egg-drop soup, that stirred two sun and moon centers
for a new-painted sky in the tiniest
ballroom imaginable.
Now he's rousing, six feet long,
turning on his side. Now he's gone.
from a dad's perspective, this one could be sort of equivalent of Pamela Sinicrope's Mother At Midnight - poem of the day.. :)
I didn't understand until I read Kim Barney's comment. I agree. I wonder what else I didn't understand.
I have never heard it described with such humor, beauty, solemnity, and grandeur all at one and the same time: came out of nowhere with a million micro-lemmings who all died but one piercer of membrane, specially picked to start a brainmaking, egg-drop soup, that stirred two sun and moon centers for a new-painted sky in the tiniest ballroom imaginable.
Clever description of how the sperm fertilized the egg to create his son.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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10/11/2024 9:09:39 AM # 1.0.0
Everything has a change as time goes on life sure!