Monday, September 17, 2007

Day in a Game

J. Andrew Arrick

An Endless summer brings a glare from the cedar slated balcony.

Flat up, a steep silled window looks to the shrubs then the row of trees,

Converse All Stars clean white and black,

scrape the sill and fill the cracks with gravel

as out the foxhole to the great known battle field of yard;

they fly with no avail.

With sword in hand, the sheathed tin

with glass buttons glares at a sweaty brow.

Up the slated porch with drawn arrows

The shots fly into white ninja target.

CHARGE!!! Lieutenant Johnson orders

Saracen blades drawn to down frail foe

of shrub and tree, in clump and row.

Retreat, that imminent thing these friends of summer darn not disobey,

with a snake path sprint from gunfire and mortars.

All caps leap off heads from brushing arrows.

From fair haven foxhole, the dawning comrade yelps like a bard in battle.

From room tombed bed knobs where slates shadows are gone

and the shaggy best friend pants and yawns.

With summer drowning and windows shut,

sweat is swiped from brow and bed again at days end.

End of bright from summer’s glare the boys in lair

in cover in pillow, lay with sleepy nights under balcony.


eLr said...


Remy said...

I think you mean "slatted" throughout.

It is funny that your images are so disjointed with ninjas, turks, and calvary. It does convey the boys of summer and their rampant imaginations.

Your sentences get a little muddy from line to line, though I do like the distended sentences and their affect on the piece, a little breathless itself, but you need to pay attention to the whole subject/predicate end of things.

I'll be posting something soon as well.

James Arrick said...

I agree Remy. The more I read this the less I like it. Hmm I should scrap it. It is a little to thick. And no, i did mean slated. This poem was more of a practice of moving action. I wanted to convey a Day in a Game. Which, by the way is the actual title. I have a better one coming.