C.R. Blazo

Rookie (11`21`79 - Present / Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania)

Uncle Jim - Poem by C.R. Blazo

A creaky screen door
On an Allegheny porch
Rolling rockers
On paint chipped planks
Uncle Jim
Grab your guitar
Custard teeth are gates of sound
A map of life upon a wrinkled face
The breeze carries song to the firs
And Uncle Jim plays on
With hair of sand
And earning hands
He plays to dusk while stopping time
And the Bluebird's song blends with the old
To hide in a song as a child
Is to hide in death as a man
When land seems to crumble
And youth tends to fade
I could always find a Bluebird
Knowing Uncle Jim never strayed.

Comments about Uncle Jim by C.R. Blazo

  • Kemi Kemms (9/3/2012 1:58:00 PM)

    I could totally imagined uncle Jim playing the guitar. I like the usage of metaphores. Well done! (Report) Reply

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  • Kasia Fedyk (8/14/2012 2:57:00 PM)

    beautiful, it put a smile on my face and I already like Uncle Jim and can hear the sound of him playing the guitar, I can see his heart and his soul whith every note (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, August 13, 2012

Poem Edited: Friday, September 7, 2012

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