Fee Fie
Fee Fie
Fee Fie Foe Fum
I smell the blood
in clock’s tocked hum.
I wish I may I wish I might
be myself
before this night.
Georgie Porgie puddin’ pie–
cross my heart–even these
will die–
Yet we, nimble, play at quick,
yet betray
our candlestick
as if it twinkled like a star
seen post-mortem
from afar.
But Time’s the old King Col(d) of all;
Time makes us roll uphill
that ball
of rock and string, of rubber band,
through slipping, sliding, shifting
sand,
and if we let the knave of tarts
steal away our
unclean hearts
then e’en before we tumble down
we’re jacking up
a broken crown.
So, let us please be quite contrary,
not shells of others’
ordinary–
and gather rosebuds, though they be thorned
about our own skins, though they’re torn–
**********************
Drafty poem for Real Toads Open Platform. Pic is mine, all rights reserved for it (as well as draft poem.)
Explore posts in the same categories: poetry, UncategorizedTags: http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com, live your own life rhyme, manicddaily, Old Time is Still Aflying poem, one not for the money poem, Twinkle our own candlestick poem
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ManicDDaily 
January 20, 2016 at 7:51 am
Hi Karin,
I’ve been having trouble getting through to you and others on a new computer I set up yesterday. This is from the old one. If you see strange messages coming through, it’s from the new one.
I enjoyed seeing these snippets of youth, innocence transformed with the darker edge of maturity and experience (and a bit of fun thrown in.)
Stay safe in the weather down there…I guess you downstaters are due to get smacked sometime this weekend. The mountains will be beautiful, I’m sure.
Steve K.
January 20, 2016 at 8:07 am
Downstater! Only part of each week! Ha. We are actually hoping for a fair amount of snow in the Catskills as there’s only been a couple of inches so far. (You can see that I am not a person in charge of shoveling.) k.
On Wed, Jan 20, 2016 at 7:52 AM, ManicDDaily wrote:
>
January 20, 2016 at 8:52 am
Downstater, yes!! From where I sit, I can see the Catskill foothills by looking directly south. It’s one of the loveliest parts of the state, though…enjoy.
January 20, 2016 at 7:56 am
Part of us never leaves that dark nursery, where we dress our fears up so brightly in primary colors and pretend they are silly–this has a feel of innocence gone awry, imaginative naivete meeting reality, yet still knowing more than those who approach it with the purest logic. These are the rhymes that wake us up at night reaching for a candle.
January 20, 2016 at 8:09 am
Though I never learned the English nursery rhymes as a kid I still connect with them… and making them sinister and dark is a great way of connecting us with what’s dark in the word. Sometimes the saddest songs are played in Major.
January 20, 2016 at 9:52 am
My lines pick will be your
“But …
Time makes us roll uphill that ball
of rock and string, of rubber band,
through slipping, sliding, shifting
sand, …”
Life isn’t easy, gradually we tire, and finally can’t navigate that (your) hill any more. There’s so much of life’s truths there and in the other segments. Thank you.
..
January 20, 2016 at 10:02 am
All this makes me think about how fortunate we are now to have modern medicine. Most of them have lived at least some time with a mortal problem.
I have had an AAA stent graft since 2001. Yesterday a sonogram showed it might be leaking. So at noon today I will be having some further tests. My cardiovascular M.D. Is a leader in his field, the stent grafts, at the Houston Heart Institute.
..
January 20, 2016 at 10:06 am
Gee, take care, Jim. Best of luck with these procedures and hope all will be well! k.
On Wed, Jan 20, 2016 at 10:02 AM, ManicDDaily wrote:
>
January 20, 2016 at 11:52 am
A warm round of applause from me! I thought this was great. Hard to choose which of the rhymes i liked the most.
Yet we, nimble, play at quick,
yet betray
our candlestick
as if it twinkled like a star
seen post-mortem
from afar.
January 20, 2016 at 5:59 pm
Inventive, imaginative and fun. I loved this poem. Thanks. 🙂
Greetings from London.
January 21, 2016 at 3:30 am
It is a going through of the nursery rhymes of old. Reading them one gets the feeling they contain a lot of wisdom not readily explained before but very apparent now.
Hank
January 21, 2016 at 6:30 am
Our own skins torn, inevitably. Prescient, really.