NaPoMo poem #27
This is the twenty seventh of the poems I will write this April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
This poem is an edited rewrite of a older poem of mine and was inspired by a moving personal experience, offered here in response to the NaPoWriMo Wordle prompt #27 at read write poem.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
Unexpected
•
unquestionable joy
in a place most unexpected
the crystalline eyes of an innocent
cruel society deems disabled
bent and stooped
impossibly twisted
confined to constant care
and his rolling metal chair
a hardscrabble life
that would drive a lesser soul
to lunacy
but his gentle eyes reflect a wonder
my jaded heart has long since lost
by arrogance extinguished
his timeless spirit knows only trust
it pours forth from his being
positioned close and cozy
to the modest stage
he is enraptured by the music
engulfed within the rhythm
enthralled by this magic
he is beaming
like an angel
the band plays fast
the band plays slow
the band plays loud
the band plays low
he rocks forward
he rolls backward
waves in jubilation
and launches heart and soul
into a wicked shoulder wiggle
as he vibrates unabashed
with pure delight
the veins of his neck
stand out full and proud
as he tosses back his head
uninhibited in laughter
tears of joy
leaking down his cheeks
his person full alive
his essence full aware
his nascent bliss aglow
he is wholly in the now
he is filled with every note
wrapped up in the cadence
sparked by the drumbeat
thrilled by every nuance
he experiences an ecstasy
at which I can only marvel
its clarity and power I can never know
it’s at this moment
that I realize
how much I do not understand
as I behold this able man
faint envy stirs
watching his unbridled joy
so complete
and unexpected
• • •
rob kistner © 2009
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• you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem
So powerful. A lot of great lines to choose from, but this is my favorite part:
the band plays fast
the band plays slow
the band plays loud
the band plays low
I can see it so clearly.
This is so incredibly moving. I love how you call him “this able man.”
Jessica –
Thank you — I’m pleased this piece spoke to you… 😉
…rob
Erin –
I appreciate your kind words – and the only thing that kept resonating for me as I watched this gentle soul was how remarkably genuine and ‘able’ he was…
…rob
I echo the comments above. I deal with alcoholism, age, disappointed expectations, continual hopes, constant fear, yet I cling to one faith, one hope: that here is a reason for existence, and that reason is good.
I find both good and hope – and faith – here.
Wow. I love what you’ve done with the donated words. What a wonderful tribute to the person in your poem.
I adore this poem. I work with special needs high schoolers and am constantly inspired by their enormous capacity– “This able man” couldn’t be more true.
Btw, I found your blog via your twitter after you started following me. I just graduated from college and have been missing that community of writers back there. I was so delighted to discover not only your wonderful poetry, but a bunch of links to other online poetry groups. I’m just starting to discover what the internet can be for an aspiring writer, so thanks for helping me out!