Veteran Poet - 1,161 Points (Scratches on the page, making noise. / New York City)

Stone Block Boy - Poem by JOE POEWHIT

Look good - boy.
SALE - day now.
You lived the ship.
We just want your - gold.
Soon to be sold.
It's just my job.
Must make a wage.
YOU - have no wage.
Only your sweat.
You know - tobacco - rice - cotton.
Lady's must look good.
Cotton in that DRESS.
More cotton for the dresses.
$$${{ SOLD }}$$$$

from my new pub. book,
search: POEWHIT


Comments about Stone Block Boy by JOE POEWHIT

  • Prince Obed de la CruzPrince Obed de la Cruz (2/5/2010 6:30:00 AM)

    very well penned.... unique! (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Sidi Mahtrow (12/5/2008 8:29:00 AM)

    He was a victim
    Polio shaped him forever
    Legs that didn't quite
    Work right.

    So he adapted
    Used a cane
    Which was like
    A third leg.

    And he walked
    Every day doing
    What he could,
    Suffering, bent and twisted
    Till he found a companion.

    A tiny fuzzy seed
    That had within,
    An embryo
    That would come forth
    If only given a chance.

    Given a place to rest
    In the cold ground
    It took,
    From the surrounding,
    Life giving moisture,
    And it cracked
    Its hard seed coat
    And emerged.

    In the light of its
    First day the leaves
    Were folded
    Yellowed and weak
    But in the sun
    The crooked neck
    Became straight.

    And the leaves became
    Green as chlorophyl
    Filled the cells and gave
    purpose and strength.

    Soon the plant,
    Some liken to a
    Four leaf clover,
    Stood tall.

    But what of the others
    Planted beside this favored one?
    As they drew water from the soil
    They also became swollen.

    According to the plan of the one
    Who placed them all together
    So that together they would act
    And permit one to emerge and stand tall.

    It was as expected
    They gave their all so
    That in breaking the crusted soil
    The favored one emerged.

    So it is that this one
    Once, crooked and bent
    Would stand tall
    And be there for the future.

    Henry Cannon loved
    Cotton, as he saw
    In this plant,
    Once weak and twisted,
    The purpose in life.

    So when you wear cotton
    Do so proudly
    Remember Henry Cannon
    And his victory.


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, December 4, 2008

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