Same Title Challenge

[echoes_s]

don't sweat it Boo, I pulled mine out of the garbage, ironed out the creases enough to be able to type, cut, copy, twist and reword the whole thing and I now have a poem that's insane, full of memories, but start and end no where

hehe, it was a beautiful time though

alas, egads and at last I am finished!

 

[impressive]

Well, I'm here ... sleepless ... so I guess I'll post my effort. With nods to the real Declaration of Independence (and no, I didn't cite it):

SIMPLER DAYS

In the coarse intercourse of human events
I became unrecognizable
to the wild child –
my sexy savage.

The purity of impurity
burned from my being
for light and transient causes
masquerading as wisdom.

I stepped willingly,
eagerly,
into a parched landscape
dotted with the absolute tyranny of
expectations – places
unusual, uncomfortable, and distant.

Decades of patient sufferance
slowly consumed my self
leaving only a charred crust;
crumbling and unstable.

I declare my independence,
now and forever.
I shed this shell
to once again drench my soul
in the dawn rain of simpler days.

~ Imp

 

[echoes_s]

Simpler days

quartets swayed
thrumming blends
of beguiled rhythm
and tap-danced
with throbbing
footfalls in neon
doorways by
dark, closed shops

saxophones wailed
on street corners
burning debris
from pavement
through blazed notes,
spiraling tire screeches
to yearning sweeps
and elegant bows

the moon laughed
with maple trees,
mountain retreat,
autumn leaves,
coating brown,
faded-green grass,
overwhelmed by
kisses of cold

sour cream pancakes
simmered languid
on an old woodstove
fire, her husband
Quebec, her lover
and I a simple
bystander
touched by all this

 

[Angeline]

Simpler Days

If calendar pages would only quit
their restless bird flight to my oblivion,
I’d hold an infant in my arms again,
no need for imagination to reconstruct
how warm a little face feels
nudged against my skin.

No one would walk away
to independence,
not even me.

If clocks would just untick
the toiling metronome of my age,
I’d never flee to opportune the last
capture of my youth,
no need to discover
how warm my face feels
held lightly in the palms of joy.

I’d stay put, having turned the wheels
back far enough to fill their spokes
with Beatle cards and whistle
my bike down Hamilton Avenue,
left on D’Arcy and again to Hobart,
where simpler days parked
next door to Mrs. Kurtz’s daffodils,
against the brick wall of 528,
and a green bench with a rose trellis
that once whispered
Home.

 

[champagne1982]

Simpler Days?

I find it hard to look fondly back
to a nostalgic past. Those days
of zits and braces still howl
through today, fresh
like they were there just yesterday
and the orthodontist reassuring
me about my smile.

The blood and tears of lost
innocence rinsed away, simply
in a pinkened rivulet
across the cold porcelain of the tub.

Like that time in school, when I
didn't know maturity and menses
lay in wait just at the beginning
of science class.
Glad it was the lady
substitute rather than doddering
Mister J. teaching physics
that day.

So, forgive me if I hesitate
to call them simpler days.
The complicated processes
of growing up
haven't gotten any simpler
with the silicon chip
and a cellular phone.

 

[PatCarrington]

Simpler Days

I have seen enough the blur of days
to know time as gravity sideways.
We plummet horizontal, whizzed toward
tombs like safes to sidewalks. I looked
behind and there they were, flat.

They passed in a rush, the long gone
men of docks and slaughterhouses. I
saw them shiver in tattered coats
and rag-wrapped hands, smoke curling
from coffee and Camels as they firmed
for work. I watched their shoulders shrug
in silence, their eyes betray indifference.
With backs straight and proud they were
propelled to graves. So I have seen

winter’s fast teeth, the grip hoist our lives
on ropes as from dark holds of ships
and hook in chilly lockers on chains
the meat of blossomed pastures. How quick
we hang undone. This arrogance of wires

I have witnessed, how too it conjures faces
and steals love, how it traps tender sound
in copper and spits white breath of frozen
codes typed by numb strangers, icing
those chords that move us to sing. Stone,

speed me in to join the memories I envy,
to slow courage to a visible pace, to rosin
bows and unwrinkle the beauty I remember.
I need another voice, just one, one blessed
brush across my cheek, one holding hand
assuring me that time will stop and share
those gifts if I no longer blink my eyes.

 

[sandspike]

Simpler Days

she's got email and voice mail
so far she can't tell
either helps her with the boys

she longs for a simple time
life with rhythm and rhyme
he was her life and her joy

three years since he past
is she ready at last
her hunger scares her so

she can't love a stranger
theres always the danger
he'll take what he wants and go

on the brink of giving in
going back in time again
his voice, his scent, his ways

thirty good years
now heartache and tears
missing the simpler days

 

[sandspike]

simpler days

Howard's used to be on the right
Jo and I hit opening night
frozen pizza and budweiser
pickled eggs the appetizer

the first bar in a dry county
man that night was something to see
cheese pizza and beer hold the egg
it was bud after bud keg after keg

since that night they moved cross the street
still nuts to butts still feet on feet
over two hundred kinds of beer
I should be grinning ear to ear

But I hit the beach fry my brain
race to Howard's and go insane
too many beers an amber haze
sometimes I miss the simpler days

 

[wildsweetone]

Simpler Days

When self seeded grasses grew tall and wide, and
seed floating fairies bounced on the breeze;
When athletic green mantis preyed at dawn, and
mumble bees hovered near lavender spikes;
When butterflies trembled around full blown flowers, and
lady bugs landed modelling bright coloured cloaks;
When sparrows bathed, etching dust-filled whirlpools, and
a young girl sat on the grass in the shade,
making daisy chain necklaces for sister in jade;
When time traversed slow and occupations lacked vigour,
life’s Simpler Days flaunted a rose laden vista.

 

[trendyredhead]

Simpler Days

Boys chasing girls, kickball games in the gym,
Kool-aid and summers spent learning to swim.
Long August nights lit by green fireflies,
The wind in my hair and the stars in my eyes.

Those were simpler days.​

When all of my crushes were felt from afar,
And my wishes came true when I wished on a star.
Prom night, graduation and yearbook goodbyes,
A twenty-first birthday, best friends who were guys.

Those were simpler days.​

When Fridays would end at the dark corner bar,
Cold beer was a salve that could heal any scar.
Pour me straight up tequila with plenty of lime,
And I’d have sex any way, anywhere, anytime.

Those were simpler days.​

A nap in the morning and toys on the floor,
Afternoons in the sandbox and supper at four.
Milky sweet breath and ten pudgy fingers,
The scent of the baby-soft lotion that lingers.

These are simpler days.
Yes, these are simpler days.​

 

[BooMerengue]

well, I made a big boo boo... but what else is new, right?

 

[BooMerengue]

Here is my pathetic offering, and I want to apologize. I just could not get my mind around it.

Simpler Days

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
it wasn't simpler being young
though to some its so, I guess

a child lost in a crowded house
found it safest being a little mouse
and then cleaning up the mess.

a teen with all the angst inside
who went along just for the ride
not caring what was best

an adult with a child to raise
no child support and little praise
yet she rose above the rest

I'm older now and looking back
at how I once took up the slack
and always rode the crest

the house is empty 'cept for me
most bills are paid; my time is free
with too much time to rest!

Ahead of me, I hope
are simpler days.​

Mea culpa, Mea culpa, Mea maxima culpa

 

[bluerains]

Simple Days

had a little time to work on this...not sure if complete .liked your Idea....bluerain
*


Cobwebs swept from
sepia tinged snapshots
wrapped in yesterdays hues.

Flashbacks rethread
each simple day,
while maintaining the
insanity of a now complicated
world infused with mindless
distractions.

Memory carved out pieces of you
and me and passions of the heart
now only traced vapor trails and
wall papered mind moods
in watercolored transfusions.

For a moment ,I sigh floating
on clouds of vanilla skies
musing each singular season.

Drifting along intersections
cavorting upon time’s impermanence ,
an array of simple memories
take root in currents of today.

 

[Trent_Dutch]

Wow... you all wrote so much. I saw the topic a week or so ago, and as my innocent and quickly dissapearing youth and my newfound responsibilities are an ever present thought in my head I bashed out this little haiku. Hope you like it. BTW, wasn't this meant to be posted last Sunday (6th)?

Simpler Days (A Haiku).

When I was Younger,
Never did I miss sunset,
Wake now at sunrise.

 

[trendyredhead]

I find it interesting how so many of us ended up with rhyming poems... I never write rhyme (ok, well, hardly ever), but felt compelled this time. Strange....

As for commenting.... I'm still mulling over them, inbetween stuff I've got going on here at home. sandspike, I like the images yours create for me, but your meter trips me up frequently.

lots of common themes...childhood, particularly....in these, too.

I like the image of the sour cream pancakes cooking over a wood fired cookstove. i can just smell it...a timeless memory.

 

[echoes_s]

Well, I'm here ... sleepless ... so I guess I'll post my effort. With nods to the real Declaration of Independence (and no, I didn't cite it):
SIMPLER DAYS

In the coarse intercourse of human events
I became unrecognizable
to the wild child –
my sexy savage.

The purity of impurity
burned from my being
for light and transient causes
masquerading as wisdom.

I stepped willingly,
eagerly,
into a parched landscape
dotted with the absolute tyranny of
expectations – places
unusual, uncomfortable, and distant.

Decades of patient sufferance
slowly consumed my self
leaving only a charred crust;
crumbling and unstable.

I declare my independence,
now and forever.
I shed this shell
to once again drench my soul
in the dawn rain of simpler days.

~ Imp

from the sounds of it, this was your life you grew into and bore, yet must have in this time somewhere found peace, that you knew to go back to it.
A beautiful and inspiring poem, showing indepth trauma to the soul, to life, that there is better.

 

[echoes_s]

Simpler Days

If calendar pages would only quit
their restless bird flight to my oblivion,
I’d hold an infant in my arms again,
no need for imagination to reconstruct
how warm a little face feels
nudged against my skin.

No one would walk away
to independence,
not even me.

If clocks would just untick
the toiling metronome of my age,
I’d never flee to opportune the last
capture of my youth,
no need to discover
how warm my face feels
held lightly in the palms of joy.

I’d stay put, having turned the wheels
back far enough to fill their spokes
with Beatle cards and whistle
my bike down Hamilton Avenue,
left on D’Arcy and again to Hobart,
where simpler days parked
next door to Mrs. Kurtz’s daffodils,
against the brick wall of 528,
and a green bench with a rose trellis
that once whispered
Home.

Ange, you said this so beautifully that even I understand the feeling of wanting to go home/going home.

 

[champagne1982]

Hi imp,
I just have a couple of observations on your piece, which is lovely, to my mind. My suggestions and comments are freely offered and as such you should take them in the spirit that they are intended to improve the work merely in my opinion. Please accept or reject whatever I say as you see fit.
My thoughts are in bold face.
SIMPLER DAYS

In the coarse intercourse of human events coarse, course, intercourse... I can see how you would find it easy to be playful with this phrase, but this is the opening of your poem. Don't you think you have something more important to say to your reader to drag them into your story?
I became unrecognizable
to the wild child – Who is the wild child? I keep looking for the kid, but you never mention this again. Maybe, you meant that you were unrecognizable from the wild child? If this is vital enough to be in your first stanza, I would like to see more about the wild child and the sexy savage, or at least, some added inference that you're describing who you were.
my sexy savage.

The purity of impurity I like this repetition here more than the coarse course one previous. You should almost have started your poem here...
burned from my being
for light and transient causes
masquerading as wisdom.

I stepped willingly,
eagerly, If you were to pare this poem down to bare bones, you'd lose some of the redundancy that is here. When does the repetition of ideas cease to be lyrical and become burdensome?
into a parched landscape
dotted with the absolute tyranny of
expectations – places
unusual, uncomfortable, and distant.

Decades of patient sufferance
slowly consumed my self
leaving only a charred crust;
crumbling and unstable.

I declare my independence,
now and forever.
I shed this shell
to once again drench my soul
in the dawn rain of simpler days. These last strophes are very good. I cannot see anything that draws me out of your words enough to bestir my critic.

Please do not be offended by my impressions of your poem. I believe you captured the spirit of the challenge. Thank you for sharing.

 

[sandj]

my entry

My apologies, this is much later than I anticipated, but it's still technically 3-13 here on the east coast, so that counts, right? Anyway, humbly submitted:


Simpler Days

Whatever happened to simpler days,
when the lines were clear and you didn’t
cross them; when a man was a man and a woman
was not; when yes meant yes and no meant
nothing; when “us” and “them”
was something to rely on (and there was only US
and them); when you could tell the difference
between white and black (two-fifths, apparently);
when a man knew his worth and the world
was small enough that you knew where you stood.

There were trees then, enough to fill a forest
or a lumberyard, and our days were numbered
endless as the sky (because we were too busy dying
to count or look up).

 

[echoes_s]

Hi imp,
I just have a couple of observations on your piece, which is lovely, to my mind. My suggestions and comments are freely offered and as such you should take them in the spirit that they are intended to improve the work merely in my opinion. Please accept or reject whatever I say as you see fit.
My thoughts are in bold face.
SIMPLER DAYS

In the coarse intercourse of human events coarse, course, intercourse... I can see how you would find it easy to be playful with this phrase, but this is the opening of your poem. Don't you think you have something more important to say to your reader to drag them into your story?
I became unrecognizable
to the wild child – Who is the wild child? I keep looking for the kid, but you never mention this again. Maybe, you meant that you were unrecognizable from the wild child? If this is vital enough to be in your first stanza, I would like to see more about the wild child and the sexy savage, or at least, some added inference that you're describing who you were.
my sexy savage.

The purity of impurity I like this repetition here more than the coarse course one previous. You should almost have started your poem here...
burned from my being
for light and transient causes
masquerading as wisdom.

I stepped willingly,
eagerly, If you were to pare this poem down to bare bones, you'd lose some of the redundancy that is here. When does the repetition of ideas cease to be lyrical and become burdensome?
into a parched landscape
dotted with the absolute tyranny of
expectations – places
unusual, uncomfortable, and distant.

Decades of patient sufferance
slowly consumed my self
leaving only a charred crust;
crumbling and unstable.

I declare my independence,
now and forever.
I shed this shell
to once again drench my soul
in the dawn rain of simpler days. These last strophes are very good. I cannot see anything that draws me out of your words enough to bestir my critic.

Please do not be offended by my impressions of your poem. I believe you captured the spirit of the challenge. Thank you for sharing.

I wish to be like Carrie

Thanks Imp and Carrie, I learnt from this.

Yes, my mind hesitated over the silent dispute of the wild child and should have asked about this also
With Carrie's suggestion I mentally took the second stanza, working it as the first stanza and see the difference, a stronger allure, opening...

 

[bluerains]

can't really find much..

to complain in this one...is a perfect pen....

Wow... you all wrote so much. I saw the topic a week or so ago, and as my innocent and quickly dissapearing youth and my newfound responsibilities are an ever present thought in my head I bashed out this little haiku. Hope you like it. BTW, wasn't this meant to be posted last Sunday (6th)?

Simpler Days (A Haiku).

When I was Younger,
Never did I miss sunset,
Wake now at sunrise.

 

[impressive]

Hi imp,
I just have a couple of observations on your piece, which is lovely, to my mind. My suggestions and comments are freely offered and as such you should take them in the spirit that they are intended to improve the work merely in my opinion. Please accept or reject whatever I say as you see fit.
My thoughts are in bold face.
SIMPLER DAYS

In the coarse intercourse of human events coarse, course, intercourse... I can see how you would find it easy to be playful with this phrase, but this is the opening of your poem. Don't you think you have something more important to say to your reader to drag them into your story?

Nope -- stickin' with this part as the opening, since the piece steals liberally from the Declaration of Independence, and the "intercourse" bit is how that opens. Hopefully, the readers will instantly recognize it -- but perhaps that is expecting too much.

I became unrecognizable
to the wild child – Who is the wild child? I keep looking for the kid, but you never mention this again. Maybe, you meant that you were unrecognizable from the wild child? If this is vital enough to be in your first stanza, I would like to see more about the wild child and the sexy savage, or at least, some added inference that you're describing who you were.
my sexy savage.

Good points. Will chew on a way to make it clearer that I'm referring to "me." Suggestions welcome (assuming the "from" is not enough to shift the meaning).

The purity of impurity I like this repetition here more than the coarse course one previous. You should almost have started your poem here...
burned from my being
for light and transient causes
masquerading as wisdom.

I stepped willingly,
eagerly, If you were to pare this poem down to bare bones, you'd lose some of the redundancy that is here. When does the repetition of ideas cease to be lyrical and become burdensome?

I don't see "willingly" and "eagerly" as redundant -- or am I missing your point?

into a parched landscape
dotted with the absolute tyranny of
expectations – places
unusual, uncomfortable, and distant.

Decades of patient sufferance
slowly consumed my self
leaving only a charred crust;
crumbling and unstable.

I declare my independence,
now and forever.
I shed this shell
to once again drench my soul
in the dawn rain of simpler days. These last strophes are very good. I cannot see anything that draws me out of your words enough to bestir my critic.

This is the part I felt was weakest. Figures!

Please do not be offended by my impressions of your poem. I believe you captured the spirit of the challenge. Thank you for sharing.

Thanks so much for your feedback! Not offended at all. I hope to give mine on others' work in the next day or so -- but work is NUTS right now.

 

[BooMerengue]

Well, thanks, everyone! These poems turned out pretty damn good! I'm gone to town today, but as soon as I get back I'll start reading closer and comment. In the meantime y'all feel free to have your say!

 

[Angeline]

Ange, you said this so beautifully that even I understand the feeling of wanting to go home/going home.

Thank you dear lady. I miss my family so, but they're with me in my poems.

I'm thinking about changing the last section--I think it could be better.

The poems in this challenge are wonderful. I'll be back with more specific comments later.

 

[sandj]

SIMPLER DAYS

In the coarse intercourse of human events
I became unrecognizable
to the wild child –
my sexy savage.

The purity of impurity
burned from my being
for light and transient causes
masquerading as wisdom.

I stepped willingly,
eagerly,
into a parched landscape
dotted with the absolute tyranny of
expectations – places
unusual, uncomfortable, and distant.

Decades of patient sufferance
slowly consumed my self
leaving only a charred crust;
crumbling and unstable.

I declare my independence,
now and forever.
I shed this shell
to once again drench my soul
in the dawn rain of simpler days.

imp,

I like the "coarse intercourse" play, and it does bring to mind the opening of the Declaration of Independence pretty clearly. However, it sets a tone (not humorous, exactly, but witty; detached and ironic, perhaps? words elude me) that doesn't quite match the rest of the poem, particularly the middle bits (there go those words again, running circles around me!). The end seems a little too abstract and vague. I don't really get a sense of what "simpler days" means, within the context of the poem. "Dawn rain" helps, a sort of cleansing, new beginning metaphor, but could do with a bit more fleshing out. Best phrase: "absolute tyranny of expectations" That is excellent! Though, line breaks after prepositions? It's debatable. I've done it numerous times, but have read some very convincing arguments recently that have led me to question whether that's ever the best place (or even a good place) to break a line.

Anyway, just some thoughts, unorganized, ungainly, and for the most part unfiltered, so you know, there's likely a higher level of carcinogens and other polluting by-products.