Nine Dragons Poet Spoken Word

Kelly McDoogan

The humid air—it draws the body's dew.
Its moist warmth irritates as thought summer was finally through.
It's mid-September; its cool mornings revisit fonder times,
Filling the heart with the calm musings of melodies and rhymes.

The buzzing fly is still.
Tommy's bravery, full of will.
Will he ask for her hand and arm?
I don't really see what would be the harm.

    For starters, being shot down across her Pacific.
    If you'd rather, I'd be more specific:
    Spun down in trailing smoke and flame,
    Just another casualty in love's heartless game.

Okay, okay.
'Sigh'... anyway...

The leaves are already changing colors.
    The Flying Gambini Brothers!
Yeah, they're headed towards the town square,
And little miss, you know who, will be there.

She'll watch the high tightrope balancers leap and tumble;
Those scary red-nosed clowns fool and fumble.
She'll see Bengal Tigers jump through rings of fire—
(She makes him blush; she's his one secret desire.)
    Oh, shut up!

    "Oh, that doe-eyed Kelly McDoogan!
    Her name rhymes with Farfegnügen
    Oh my gosh, here she comes!"
I shake my head as away he runs.

But sympathy, my name is Peter,
And on that Simone, I couldn't've been sweeter
I couldn’t even look straight at her—
Her in that drooping violet sweater.

I remember her almond hazel eyes,
And that she liked me came as a huge surprise;
But it only left me in a fearful daze
It felt like drowning in many ways.

The intricate workings of first love:
What do I do? imploring the gods above
I wonder if she’ll let me hold her hand
As we walked barefooted through the sand.

I had never thought this way;
For her love returned, I'd pray
Practicing what I’d say,
Wanting her near each and every day.

Oh Tommy, if you only knew,
You’ll be a changed man before it's through
I’m torn between the days we’d run and play,
Or will this summer come that fateful day?
You’ll be too smitten to run—
Don’t worry; you’re not the only one,
And you surely won't be the last
Mom was right; we grow up so fast.

The cement beneath our feet,
The streets where we meet,
Playing stickball or chasing kites,
Our parents breaking up petty fights.

As we’d wrestle in the grass,
Only to become friends fast
Each moment of tender youth—
Laughing at noises most uncouth.

And we’d see them gathered there,
Our ladies aloof, without the slightest care
Their bravery confounds
As they loiter just beyond our bounds.

Seeming armed with some secret sense,
From our shyness came their reliance
But now and again came the nerve,
Which Tommy held in full reserve.

Lo, the day he asked Kelly to the fair!
How I wish that I had been there—
The look on his face, lively narrating his story,
The look of “What have I done?!
From this can come no glory!"

Placing hand on shoulder,
As one does when they're older,
Ready to impart
On matters of the heart.
"Oh… where to start?"

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment