"Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." ~Thomas Gray
"Poetry unites." ~Anon
"Truth is such a rare thing, it is delightful to tell it." ~Emily Dickinson
Written by Howie Good
He lives in Highland, New York, USA
His blog: Apocalypse Mambo
Previously published in everydayweirdness
Right-Hand Man
I’d pick up a spoonin my left hand,
and they’d take it
and put it in my right.
I was small, very small,
probably no bigger
than a hobo’s bindle.
They’d look down at me
while I slept
and shake their heads.
Where they came from,
liars and arsonists
were left-handed.
I’d pick up a block
in my left hand,
and they’d take it
and put it in my right.
Now sometimes
when I start to reach
for what I want,
I’ll stop suddenly
and wonder
whose hand this is.
Posted with consent from the writer.
Featuring: Howie Good, Poetry
5 Comments:
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Breathing Poetry: A Collection of Words and Emotions
and they’d take it
and put it in my right.
Now sometimes
when I start to reach
for what I want,
I’ll stop suddenly
and wonder"--brilliant piece; I like the mechanics of this portion above--truly brilliant. Liars and Arsonists..oh! The flames of the artifice.
So simply written, but the message is powerful.
i love how this is and reads like ripples across a life - and the way such small things are not small things at all.