Heroic

On By inaloveworldIn Poems, world

by Mike U.

The kid was too young
This distant uncanny boy
Face absconded
Into the murky depths of his
Drenched and threadbare
Crimson hoodie
Eyes mere pinpricks
Of sentience in the shadows
Where his face should be
On this pouring midnight
Sidewalk where even the rain seemed
Exhausted in the scornful cones
Of streetlamp illumination
And unseen clouds sighed above
Too tired for the bluster and pretense
Of thunder
And he sat there in this mess of a night
On a bench where no bus would ever stop
For anyone at anytime for any reason
Staring into the distance at both
Something and nothing at once
Moveless save for an occasional shiver
Waiting for someone or something
Or perhaps nothing at all

His shoes were soaking wet
Those black hi-tops iridescent
From rain and gutter filth
His dark spidery fingers
Loomed together in some
Cryptic pattern on his lap
Where rainwater pooled and eddied before
Dispersing first through his skinny legs
Then between the filthy slats of the bench
To merge with the noisy gutter rill
And then with the sewage below
And then the poisonous river
And then the darkness of the ocean
Of some other universe

And I passed him in the rain
Of that eternal night as I made
My own way into my own darkness
And I thought of some worried mother
Sitting at some rickety kitchen table
Bathed in the sickly yellow glow of a naked
Tungsten bulb
Haunted eyes fixed somewhere
Beyond the weeping window panes
Hands wringing in some unconscious
Talismanic effort of projected protection
For some lost child some prodigal son
Out there alone in the rain
And I couldn’t decide if she was
The boy’s mother
Or my own

And then my blackness
Was interrupted by a voice
Behind me
Not that of a man
Yet not that of a child
And I stopped and turned
And the kid was there
And in his outstretched hands
He held a soaked and faded
Red hoodie and a pair of
Sopping black hi-tops
And his eyes were calm
And his face shone in the rain
And he didn’t say a word
He just pointed at my own
Bare feet and my freezing body
And then he was gone
His own bare footprints
Lingering momentarily on the sidewalk
Before the rain took them away

(c) 2013 by Michael L. Utley

https://silentpariah.com

Photo by Jannis Nöbauer on Unsplash

21 thoughts on “Heroic”

  2. Pingback: “Heroic” published at Manuela Timofte’s blog In a Love World – Silent Pariah

    1. Thanks, Russ. Happy to know you enjoyed this one. I hope things are good up in your neck o’ the woods, my friend. Stay warm, stay safe. 😊

      Like

    1. Thank you, Robbie. A subject close to my heart, for sure. There are too many invisible people in this world who need our compassion and empathy. We can–and must–do better.

      Like

  7. Dearest Mike, this made me cry. I love this piece for so many reasons. Your writing is so exquisitely spaced with a cadence that sets the tone for this self-reflective and sad poem about a young boy that meets himself on a beach and perhaps offers some comfort. Such a mastery in your poetry. I want to be remembered when I die for my work – but I know your work will be remembered. It is so amazingly visual. Every line paints an emotive moment that was bringing me to tears.

    I suppose I see myself in your lines. Your work here is just so brilliant.

    For some reason these lines touched my heart so deeply – it was like me seeing myself in the field I went to cry out to God to pick me up and bring me home.

    “Where rainwater pooled and eddied before
    Dispersing first through his skinny legs
    Then between the filthy slats of the bench
    To merge with the noisy gutter rill
    And then with the sewage below
    And then the poisonous river
    And then the darkness of the ocean
    Of some other universe”

    A depth where no one wants or should ever feel they are, and yet we did. Manuela thank you so much for this publication. Seeing Mike’s words are a gift. Blessings to you and to Mike.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanks so much, Joni, for your always thorough and thoughtful comments. This poem is so dark and epitomizes despair, I think. The loneliness and invisibility of destitution and poverty and homelessness in a world bereft of empathy… I’m terrified of being homeless, as you know, and I’ve visited this theme in several of my poems. So many of us are this close to being on the streets, starving and without hope. It’s difficult for me to think about this without feeling both abject sorrow and rage. We can do better as a species than to turn our backs on our fellows when they need us most. The ending surprised me, to be honest. I didn’t see it coming, but when it did, everything fell into place and I realized there was a lot more to this one that I’d originally believed.

      Thanks again for your kind appraisal. I’m glad my poetry connects with you. Yours certainly hits the mark with me, my friend. Best wishes to you and Scott.

      Like

    1. Thank you, Liz. This one has deep meaning for me, and writing it was a bit emotional. We must do better to show compassion to our fellows. Too many folks are invisible in this world and in need of kindness, especially those who have lost so much. It’s terribly sad.

      Liked by 1 person

  10. Dark, cold and wet…all come through in this powerful poem. Mike is someone I look up to as his poems always prod and poke at our comfortable lives! 🙇‍♂️

    Like

Comments are closed.