Creative Brooding

Welcome to my blog. My name is Pat O'Connor and I wanted to create one little spot where I could share feelings, thoughts, even ramble if I want to. Perhaps too, reveal a side of me very few know about. If there are two words I would use to describe myself, those two would be iconoclastic and eclectic.

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

I met a man of many colors And a tear was upon his cheek."Old man" I ask, "why do you cry With such an agonizing weep?"

"Oh child" this man he says to me, "My heart is broken in so many ways. That I believe this day to end Will find me out stretched and far within the encompassing earth of sin."

I sat down beside this man and asked him "do not cry. For what you think is so bad, that life will pass you by?"

He looks at me with such sad eyes, and weeps ever more. He holds his hands out to me and alas, I do see the anguish of his heart.

For his hands were different colors one is red and the other white, a leg he unclothed for me was as yellow as could be and his other leg as black as night.

"I am the father of the world. In case you do not know. And my children have grown apart and fight among themselves.

For when they do not get along my arms and legs and hands and feet destroys the very life of me.

My hands of red and white will not feed this face of night. And my legs of black and yellow, will not stand beneath this body and support my heart and soul.
For they argue far too much, and now I have grown old.

So here I sit in this haven of unwelcomeness. And when this day ends, a father I will not be. For my children of many nations have forgotten how to accompany me.


Pat O'Connor

Credit to: poem: Fortune City artwork: Mountain Grandmother

Labels: ,


Post a Comment

<< Home