Appropriate Adult – A Poem

Words may be ignored

Amid the chitter

Of chicks

Scattering sounds indiscriminately

As a child blows bubbles

Just to see them drift

Actions might be gesture

Safely consigned

As mere signs of life

Little ones dance loose

To music parents cannot hear

So seem mad in youth

But those ridiculous flags

You laughed scornfully at

Forgetting it was you

Who left me only ugly scraps

To stitch and patch

Were dyed in blood

Still, I need do nothing to repay

And in that way

I will ensure

Such a thin crowd

When they lower you

To your grave


The world is insane and I'm in writing therapy!

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Posted in Poetry
13 comments on “Appropriate Adult – A Poem
  1. OUCH. Well done, Mike. I especially liked the sound bubbles.

    • ruleofstupid says:

      You often pick the bits which I felt strongly about. Something about this time of year makes me reflective and melancholy. December may be sad poetry month.

      • After what I wrote yesterday, you might be right. Your melancholy is necessary and beautiful though, so please share it.

      • ruleofstupid says:

        I shall, thanks Susan. Yes, I didn’t want to confess to yet further creative burglary, but your poem about your mum was a large ingredient in the chain. Funny thing is, there is something wonderful in submerging one’s self in the sadder reality of Xmas. Yes, celebrate the yippee stuff, but also the remembrance, the marking of meanings both good and sad. While we obsessively promote being happy, we miss an entire half of life if we don’t embrace the sorrowful memories.

      • Mike–it is not burglary if you didn’t copy my poem & paste your name on it–inspiration belongs to all of us…and as you inspire me, how can I then turn around and grumble about inspiring you? I think it’s great!

      • ruleofstupid says:

        You’re a 60’s love-child throwback SuPorn…

        …and I love it 🙂

      • Hahaha–it is because I was born in the Summer of Love–all those vibrations imprinted into my fetal mind.

  2. This is so sad panda and very powerful.

  3. Little ones dance loose
    To music parents cannot hear
    These are 2 favourite lines of mine.

    They dance to the beat of their own drum.

    I too get a little melancholy at this time of year – I know not why. Perhaps the Grinch in me hasn’t changed from the year past.
    A raw & emotional piece – thank you ROS. 🙂

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