Beyond
I remember when this was ALL fields!
every time
i close my eyes
i see stick men
drawn on the walls
on the ceiling
down the halls
i look for my reflection
in the multitude
of mirrored surfaces
only to realise
that i am here
not there
beyond the walls
lay the gardens
all prim and proper
in a messy vine and ivy way
undergrowth meets overgrown
a fecund, verdant chaos rules here
in a time of its own choosing
it’s all fields past the gardens
as far as the eye can see
fences and cows and sheep and shit
and the occasional shady tree
the fields have all been painted
in bold and ragged stripes
fences trees and streams
all bolded and raggedy stripes
indiscriminately planted
with country moans and gripes
and wistfully enchanted
subliminal city sewer pipes
it’s a wasteland
beyond the fields
highways and fly ways
cloud scraping buildings
and way too many cars
coffee shops litter
the ever expanding suburbs
there's no shortage
of ticky tacky
every time
i close my eyes
i see walls
drawn on stickmen
little red brick suits
i see nothing else
About the Creator
Bren
"It's just a token of my extreme!" - Frank Zappa
"Cause it's all in the heat of the moment It's all in the pain!!!" - Devin Townsend
Centre Stage with the wonderful Heather Hubler
Comments (14)
Well done, and congratulations on TS🎉🎉
Nice work! Congrats on TS!
Congrats to TOP story !!!!!
Excellent poetry!
Very Nice
That's beautiful. Congrats on Top Story. I'm happy to subscribe to your work.
Wow that's awesome poetry 👏
Such lingering and lovely poetry. Congratulations on your Top Story achievement, too.
well done
Congrats on a top story!
Your words beautifully present a surreal world where simplicity and complexity collide. The repeated presence of "stick men" on walls, ceilings, and halls evokes a ghostly sense of displacement. The journey from lush gardens to chaotic fields and ultimately to an urban wasteland reflects your inner journey—caught between nature and industrial expansion. The contrast between messy yet organized gardens and the fragmented, artificial city makes a strong commentary on the clash between natural beauty and human-made uniformity. The final line, "walls are drawn on stick men," leaves a powerful impact of loneliness and existential uncertainty. This poem is haunting, vivid, and thought-provoking. You have truly written an excellent poem. It's worthy of being a top story. Congratulations 👏🎉🥳
Excellent poetry! You have a new subscriber in me. 😊
Very well done, the ending especially
Loved this poem!