A man with a gun whispers
in a field of wildflower and tall grass.
I listen,
like skipping stones by moonlight.
I hear the last grain
rattle
and fall…
and hit bedrock.
Look for me after the rain
where the dirt road ends
and the trickle becomes a torrent.
Look for the wild poppy pushing through my ribs.
people sometimes tend to throw their own interpretation into a poem comment. ……………which I guess is pretty normal, especially when the poem is so ……….hmmm? unclear? [[they often also mistake fiction for nonfiction and assume the author is telling a true ‘story’ about her/himself. I’ve fallen into that trap! ]] I liked your response to one of the comments you received: your response: “ Brian Mayo (12/4/2015 11: 18: 00 PM) Saving Private Ryan? Thanks for the nice comments. I chose a poppy only because I recently had discovered one in my weed infested garden, had no idea wghere it came from, and thought it was cool. It looked like a purple, coconut flaked snowball” [minus five points for the “wghere” typo] did you actually give the poem’s poppy a color designation? ? let me see. NO; I thought not! a bit spooky (the poem) . just a bit from this side. is there really a gun? and what’s with the grain falling? ? as poetry, I guess this will have its fans. but you might not make it as a news reporter. well, maybe you would, on second thought! I’m glad this is “Free Verse”, as I wouldn’t give ya but two bits for it. hee-hee. and does the torrent wash the soil off of your shallow grave, dear sir? ? ? bri :)
BREAKING NEWS; THIS JUST IN: Man Actually Believes Poet's Mother Was A Possum Story At 11: 00 Yes, there was really a gun... in my imagination... when I wrote the poem. Save your two bits for a shave and a haircut. Grain- -both hourglass and gunpowder. Isn't that what was called to mind? The torrent can do whatever you wish it to do. Maybe it's a flood of emotion... Maybe it's where the stream narrows... Maybe it's where I took a leak. Har Har
Extraordinary poem. Brilliantly illustrated. I love this poem........10+++++++
I guess i liked this a few years ago. now...? but, i'm not too bright. ;) bri
Thought you should know I found this poem through minecraft fanfiction. Don't know how that makes you feel but hopefully it's a good thing?
in case it ain't there: to MyPoemList and i'm swiping it for my/our March 2017 showcase. Thanks. bri :)
'Wild Poppy' revisited. did pamela proofread her comment in light of your poem, i wonder. i neither saw nor heard any whispering wildflowers. more like a murderer or lousy hunter whispering i gotcha now! . yes, an exclaimed whisper. and upon second reading (today's reading by me) [and BEFORE i read your response to my earlier comment; ya know i never would have seen it IF i hadn't come back half a year later and looked] i thought about grain. i don't remember what kind of grain i thought of the first time. wheat? barley? but this time i thought grain was used to refer to buckshot. ok, gunpowder. i suppose you could be saying the exploding gunpowder made an explosion which rattled an eardrum. but fall and hit make me think of a pellet of buckshot. i did NOT think of grains through an hourglass. i tend to think NOT in symbolism. btw, i didn't mean (i don't think) in my first comment that i had fallen into that trap with this poem. i know i have for some others. ...................................I listen, like skipping stones by moonlight. .......i STILL don't get this. did you find a rib in your garden as well. perhaps one of adam's, which god dropped and could not be bothered to pick up? ? bri :) thanks for your earlier response. i send mine directly to the poet as a message, as you may know.
I came back to this poem again today. There is something mythic and mesmerizing about this one. Whispering wildflowers and skipping stones in moonlight. It has such a musical quality to it and the scene is just chilling. More like an opera than a symphony...one that happens in just a few seconds. Timeless.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
WOW...stunning write. Although the red poppy has become a symbol of war remembrance the world over.. in New Zealand it is most commonly seen around Anzac Day,25 April. So this poem is very symbolic and special to me. Thank you....10
Always nice to hear from you. Your appreciation of my poem makes me happy.