Seventeen And A Hundred Years Old Poem by Martin O'Neill
Seventeen And A Hundred Years Old
November rains wash the dreams down the drain
And a rainbow lies bleeding in the street
Where it gets splashed by car tyres to the edge
And on to red shoes on a young girl's feet.
'Damn! ' she says 'Diesel always stains like hell,
Yeah, but no-one will notice in the dark.'
And as a limousine pulls to a halt
It's time for her to step up to the mark.
Seventeen years or a hundred and two
A thousand years from her eyes to her soul.
A window rolls down, a bargain is struck
This one looks loaded, she feels on a roll..
The radio hawks and spits in the night
The lights on the squad car paint the crowd
Gazing at a broken bargain - red shoes,
And beyond them, a green tarpaulin shroud.
Somehow I get a mental picture of each of your poems. Some pictures are still - like an Edward Hopper painting. Your poems are cynical but all too real - I think your observation of life is brilliant.
Ah, but it is great to read great poetry written by someone who knows the power of the pen and wields it. 10++++++++++++++ and onto my fav list
The radio hawks and spits in the night The lights on the squad car paint the crowd Gazing at a broken bargain - red shoes, And beyond them, a green tarpaulin shroud.- - - - - - -Again the magnificent imagery and we the readers are standing in the crowd stricken by what has happened here
November rains wash the dreams down the drain And a rainbow lies bleeding in the street Where it gets splashed by car tyres to the edge And on to red shoes on a young girl's feet.- - - tip-notch image putting the reader right there on that rainy street but hold on there is more to this than meets the eye
It did not take me long to deduce that I was reading a very good poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 8:07:09 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Nice One as a poem describing a feeling of irritation, confusion great job