Smidgens
The doors are open
Yet, it’s silent
I should hear children…
The ones of the neighborhood
Screaming at play
Or the voice of Mr. Rush
In his backyard
Talking on his cell
About installing water pumps.
Where’s the lawn mowers
The Leaf blowers
And the loud men who mind them?
What’s up with the street man
Digging for bottles in the recycling bin?
Is he taking the day off?
Spanky the spaniel should be barking.
Mr. Fry should be meowing
rubbing my leg for food.
Where’s my neighbor
The chronic door slammer at?
I swear there’s an art to the door slam.
What about those two who argue
Over their fences
While trading tomatoes and beats?
And that incessant car alarm
That nobody seems to know
How to turn off? Where’s it at?
What happened to the occasional drunk
Searching for his girlfriend
From the bar a block away?
Has he missed his cue?
What’s this peaceful shit doing here?
Oh, there’s Spanky’s bark
And the start of a new argument.
Tomatoes are doing good this year.
Beats? Not so good.
Just when I thought things were getting good.
Good shit never lasts long
love this; especially the line: “I swear there’s an art to the door slam”
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LOl, thanks, but it’s supposed to be beats and not beets. Changes the reading if understand what I’m doing. “Sound”
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Brilliant – except for ‘beats’ which surely ought to be ‘beets’! Thanks for liking my shared post from Dan Alletorre.
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It is interesting and humorous. Quite unusual the shit part of it. LOL Anand Bose from Kerala
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Your comment takes many different directions. Thanks.
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Arrrgh 😁 It’s like a really cruel joke
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That was a good one….
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Ah. Thank you for clarifying. 🙂
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Delightful! The ordinary sounds can feel so good. I love the whimsical fountain.
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Excellent! 🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀
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The latter “beats” is correct. I put it next to tomatoes on purpose. I knew people would question or correct it. There are themes of sound and/or what is good and what is shitty in the poem.
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Is it beats or beets? I thought beets was short for beetroots. Or maybe I’m getting confused by the proximity to tomatoes and it’s actually musical beats? In which case beats is slang for… some kind of conversation?
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Here’s to us all being up to our eyes in the good shit all of the time 🙂
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As Just Joan put so eloquently, there is a paradox here. With your post, that paradox is found in definitions between normal and abnormal. Mine is a a metaphorical approach with sound and silence.
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Your topic was about “Peaceful Shit” and mine was about the crazy life LOL
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A neighbourhood’s silent treasure.
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I freak’n love this!
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Ah now I see what you did there! Well isn’t that smart. Great writing!
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I’ve already been attacked. Lol!! Sounds, yes. I’m placing your comment in the review section.
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Nope, no officer of grammar here. Figured it was a play on words, after all, who exchanges beets over the fence? Can’t give them away in my neck of the woods! A comprehensive list poem of the sounds you weren’t hearing. I recently read that we stir up wars because we can’t stand the boredom of peace; this kind of piggybacked on that. Simple poems invite complicated interpretations, who knows what chords they will strike in the reader? 🙂
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Here’s a clue. What is the iconic thing that people throw at artistic acts they do not like?
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Frank, you must read the other comments and then it may make sense to you. Notice, that there is no mention of a garden?
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It doesn’t does it, Elan. But what sort of beets are beats? Genetically modified to dance in vinegar? 🙂 It’s the editor coming out in me. I love your stuff.
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This was super fun to read. I enjoyed it, honestly.
Hope to read more in the future.
MetalTears
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Simple, you’re anything but!
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LOl, I didn’t anyone would catch that, except an officer of grammar. Just when I thought I was doing something simple. Thanks Joan.
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Quiet can be rather disquieting, eh? I liked the use of “beats” which I thought was supposed to be “beets” until you did it twice. You keep me guessing, Elan. Also, good shit and peaceful shit are used at the end as if they are opposites, another paradoxically interesting idea. Good poem, thought-provoking. 🙂
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I haven’t had any good shit for a while. There’s always hope I suppose.
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To get even a taste, a whiff – you lucked out. Thank you for sharing!
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The good shit: rarely happen; over too quickly or gets stolen…
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Everything sounds good when you write it! LOL
Shit resonates.
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