The Fall Poem by Daniel Brick

The Fall

Rating: 5.0


When I was a preteen, I was prone
to rolling off the bed and slamming
to the floor. Bam! My father's sleep
was disturbed, but he would think,
'He's fallen out of bed again, ' and
go back to his sleep. After so many
repetitions, everything loses its
crisis status, and takes on the stability
of a mural figure fixed in his place.
Still the hard floor gave me many dreams
anxiously trying to explain my physical
plight. I'd dream I was lying on the cold
winter ground, exposed to wolf packs or wild dogs.
Or the dream placed me on a sidewalk, curled
in sleep, as dream-like passers-by passed me
without curosity. Only once the rug on which
I stretched became an Arabian Nights flying carpet!
Mostly the dream persuaded me the cold hardness
was just life as we know it, softness and warmth
only illusions cast up from primeval depths.
But when I awoke, minutes or hours after the fall,
I always climbed back into the bed, in need of
that lost softness and warmth for the remainder
of the night which treated me with such casual cruelty.

Wednesday, December 7, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: memory
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Anne Yun 08 December 2016

'When I was a preteen, I was prone to rolling off the bed and slamming to the floor.' I want to say 'me, too' You made me laugh for a while

0 0 Reply
Daniel Brick 08 December 2016

I'm glad the poem made you laugh from the shared experience. I wanted the poem to be taken lightly. Some memories are like that: there's no big issue, just a pleasant recall of time past.

0 0
Bharati Nayak 08 December 2016

The narrative gives us a chance to see you in your pre-teen age.It is wonderful narration- - And I like the last stanza- how you climb back into the bed after the fall.- - - - But when I awoke, minutes or hours after the fall, I always climbed back into the bed, in need of that lost softness and warmth for the remainder of the night which treated me with such casual cruelty.

0 0 Reply
Kumarmani Mahakul 09 December 2016

But when I awoke, minutes or hours after the fall, I always climbed back into the bed, in need of that lost softness and warmth for the remainder of the night which treated me with such casual cruelty.... amusing depiction. A beautifyl poem on memory shared. Thanks...10

0 0 Reply
Kumarmani Mahakul 09 December 2016

Please treat it as beautiful instead of beautifyl. It has been done inadvertently.

0 0 Reply
Soran M. H 17 February 2020

Very good memory mixing the reality of past with dreams to know what is going on in the backround of the poet and his inspiration world..always your poems are on the top..keep writing and blessed...10/10 for this excellent piece of work....Regards

0 0 Reply
Nosheen Irfan 15 December 2016

A wonderful write. Yes, that's what life is all about. We fall only to rise. Hard cold ground teaches us a lot of things...to get back on our feet n once again enjoy the softness n warmth. Full of positiveness, this is a very skillfully written piece n reflects your deep insight. A super 10.

0 0 Reply
Nika Mcguin 10 December 2016

I love this! I love the message, one that isn't often represented. Life is hard, but we prefer to look on the bright side and old on to the illusion of softness and warmth. This, I have to add to my favorites! Pure excellence Daniel~

1 0 Reply
Pamela Sinicrope 09 December 2016

I fell out of bed all the time as a child too....and I had dreams of flitting through the night on a flying carpet...and I was a sleepwalker... I love poems about childhood dreams. There's fear, love of home, and desire to fly past our reality. I liked the line, ...after so many repetitions, everything loses its crisis status... I chose to think that falling out of bed, knocked some sense into your mind so you could write great poetry! :)

1 0 Reply
M Asim Nehal 09 December 2016

The ease with which you correlated your childhood dreams with the reality of life is amusing. We remain casual till our adolescence and then life teaches us some bitter lessons leaving us in dreamland/wonderland where we see ourselves struggling to cope with the situation and then this great fall happens, I can relate to this wisely written poem...Loved it my Wise friend Sir Daniel Brick.100+++

2 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success