so, it's been awhile,
and no i'm not on okp at 3am...i'm residing in hong kong for a hot second.
this is an old piece, but i'm wondering if i should add it to a portfolio
that i'm submitting to a contest. the profs at school like it, but what do they know?


One Mississippi Two Mississippi

When we were kids, storm clouds
formed beneath collared shirts,
beyond buttons and breast pockets,
cumulonimbus in our father’s chest.

The mist rose after work
with a misplaced shoe, a startled nap.
Had we stomped on the stairs, slammed a door, forgot to say please,
vapor scaled his legs.

All that moisture rumbled all evening in his lungs
till someone, unforgivably dumb,
left the oven on or rolled their eyes.

Now, we know the ways of lightning,
how it can split you in half
if you stand out in the open, alone.

One Mississippi, two Mississippi
we counted the miles
between his voice and thunder claps.
Wind beat against his chest.
He chewed hail the size of golf balls,
spat it to the floor.
It ended with a silence that whirred in our ears.

The rain season lasted the whole of our childhoods.
We held our umbrellas, we slept behind hills,
I sewed my brothers’ mouths shut
and we waited for the arrival of floods, tall enough
to wash us away.


soul.

this one line made me read it 3 times... and each time, i smiled and could actually picture two young boys sitting obediently on a bed with their mouths sewn shut...

glad to see you take time out from your studies to grace us with these lines:

Had we stomped on the stairs, slammed a door, forgot to say please,
vapor scaled his legs.

All that moisture rumbled all evening in his lungs
till someone, unforgivably dumb,
left the oven on or rolled their eyes.

Now, we know the ways of lightning,
how it can split you in half
if you stand out in the open, alone.

One Mississippi, two Mississippi
we counted the miles
between his voice and thunder claps.
Wind beat against his chest.
He chewed hail the size of golf balls,
spat it to the floor.

and the poem in its entirety.

hope Hong Kong is teaching you new things every single day. Peace~

---------------------------------------
Pinwheels and HulaHoops|the book
http://www.lulu.com/content/132318
http://msmind.blogspot.com|the life


Simple. l'Ame. la Soeur

it's daddy's weekend here and i have a house full of my kids and step kids and god kids ....so i'm wondering if they arethinking the same thing right now ...

had to tell the oldest to wash the dishes ..take out the trash etc...they were all looking like whoa ....


i really really enjoyed te piece man....esp. the part were you sew ya brothers mouth cose .....ha ha ha they always make it worst on themselvies right ..... being the youngesti woud lke to thank all the older brothers and sisters of the world ....well i took up enuff of ya post with this ....i'm done

but i really really enjoyed the piece..

thanks for the look, zin.

p.s. who you calling son?
*laughs*

soul.

i think that the avg. reader will be able to discern that this pertains to your father without the specific phrase:

'our father's chest'

and imo, those five lines just aren't as engaging as the lines that follow.

i think the rest of it is incredible exactly the way that it is.

but if i can suggest something, i'd like to see you play with the order of the stanzas.


>One Mississippi, two Mississippi

>we counted the miles
>between his voice and thunder claps.
>Wind beat against his chest.
>He chewed hail the size of golf balls,
>spat it to the floor.


>All that moisture rumbled all evening in his lungs
>till someone, unforgivably dumb,
>left the oven on or rolled their eyes.
>


>The mist rose after work
>with a misplaced shoe, a startled nap.
>Had we stomped on the stairs, slammed a door, forgot to say
>please,
>vapor scaled his legs.


>The rain season lasted the whole of our childhoods.
>We held our umbrellas, we slept behind hills,
>I sewed my brothers’ mouths shut
>and we waited for the arrival of floods, tall enough
>to wash us away.



again, i think it's incredible.

good to see you.

p.s.

if any of this is offensive, blame tha anthology; he has me on that old school 00' criticism.

no disrespect intended.

please,

stay you.

s'nothin more beautiful.

i think it makes it better with out tho it doesn't suck while it's there .... i think it opens the post up a lil more

the first line "one mississippi two mississippi" is acting as the title right now. So, sorry for the confusion. But you're saying, lose the first four lines?

and I'm in no way offended. I haven't looked at this piece in a while because there was some controversy surrounding it, and it's good to get solid advice.

soul.

expound.


> But you're saying, lose the first four lines?

yea, the first four lines.

It got published...as well as placed in a graduation program (without my knowledge),
and the entire school saw it
including my father

though in truth, it's not really about him
just my imagination taking off
but people don't always believe that
if the shoe even slightly fits

if they ever did that to me i would hate
who ever involved for the rest of my life because
that is just plain--------!

now they must live with what the done ha ha ha aah
TE-TE
The End - To Everybody

to fit my tongue for this: cumulonimbus

ugh

like a toe in sumthing gooky

>like a toe in sumthing gooky

I took offense.

long time mr jam

soul: email me whatever u stick w/

"I sewed my brothers’ mouths shut
and we waited for the arrival of floods, tall enough
to wash us away."


Very powerful lines above- its almost too painful to visualise
but then again it feeds my spirit with inspiration and gladness
that im a writer too

thanks

I like the original more than the persons edited. I will be checking for you.

!

There's a nice folkloric quality to this poem.
Because the last stanza showcases this element
well, I think it ought to go first.

The original order is fine too, although
this way, I believe, intensifies the rain season--
it's quite a powerful line.

>One Mississippi Two Mississippi

>The rain season lasted the whole of our childhoods.
>We held our umbrellas, we slept behind hills,
>I sewed my brothers’ mouths shut
>and we waited for the arrival of floods, tall enough
>to wash us away.
>
>When we were kids, storm clouds
>formed beneath collared shirts,
>beyond buttons and breast pockets,
>cumulonimbus in our father’s chest.
>
>The mist rose after work
>with a misplaced shoe, a startled nap.
>Had we stomped on the stairs, slammed a door, forgot to say
>please,
>vapor scaled his legs.
>
>All that moisture rumbled all evening in his lungs
>till someone, unforgivably dumb,
>left the oven on or rolled their eyes.
>
>Now, we know the ways of lightning,
>how it can split you in half
>if you stand out in the open, alone.
>
>One Mississippi, two Mississippi
>we counted the miles
>between his voice and thunder claps.
>Wind beat against his chest.
>He chewed hail the size of golf balls,
>spat it to the floor.
>It ended with a silence that whirred in our ears.

_____________________

Cultivate a quiet joy
Put others before you
Watch well and listen closely

•Kenji Miyazawa

i'm not really well verse in titles or labels in poetry, but i will say that the imagery is on point here.

the use of nature (is it allegory or metaphor) to describe the disposition of the father is very creative here.


very nice work here.

Whose work smacks of profound logic & skillz?


*Miss U*