this is not one of them

the old boy
wakes up three hours ahead of
the world that lives in concrete buildings
and one hour ahead of the
competition
and emerges from his damp tent

looks around the park
looks at the sky

Overcast

He stretches a bit and scratches his
head
and walks over to the fountain
and has a drink

collects some mint leaves
chews on them
spits
and rinses his mouth

The work clothes are already on him
Boots
two pairs of socks
cotton and wool
faded jeans
a shirt
a sweater
and coat over them
mittens
and a cap that covers his ears as well

It's now time to set about
collecting tin cans around the neighborhood
to make just enough for
a meal and a half
and maybe a few cigarettes sold
individually

It's been
enough years for all this to become
routine
When you don't know of any better you
don't expect any better

And now he only did this to have just enough
energy and life force to
visit the public library and
read heart warming poems
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36 thoughts on “this is not one of them”

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  1. This is a wonderful poem — the ‘old boy’ has purified life to the essential being, and going to the library to read poetry is a fine reward for the work of collecting cans.

    Liked by 4 people

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    1. (๑*ᗜ*) Thank you, Gwen!

      I’m glad I can give the reader the opportunity to step into a character’s shoes.
      (just make sure you don’t stay there. It doesn’t seem too pleasant :))
      (╭ರ_ ⊙ )

      Liked by 2 people

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        1. ( ° ͜ʖ͡°) Ooh, this is a most difficult question, since I never considered anything else.

          I remember always dreading that very popular question that adults ask children: “What would you like to be when you grow up?”

          I didn’t want to grow up, first of all :))

          But, well, it’s not something one can control…
          Now I’m in my 20s and people no longer ask “What would you like to be when you grow up?” but something along the lines of “What would you have liked to be if you weren’t a dispatcher?”

          The answer is the same as ever. “I don’t know.”

          I guess if I wasn’t writing, I’d just be working at my regular job and be an average person like anyone else… (◕‸◕ )

          Liked by 1 person

          Reply

          1. I see
            Well that’s one thing.
            Am 12 at the moment, and I was and also am in this ” Peter Pan ” stage.

            I don’t want to grow, but at the same time i have the excitement of seeing where life will take when I grow up.

            …but I have to say, Your dedication and love for writing has inspired me the most…

            And have a nice day ahead!.

            Liked by 2 people

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  13. Beautifully told poetic tale, about one of life’s variations and what makes it worth living. There is hope at the end of this rainbow…. in the form of the poetry section of the public library…So original!

    Liked by 2 people

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  16. Reblogged this on Writing Me Up and commented:
    Love this, Bogdan. With not too much imagining and a few different roads not taken, this old boy could have been me. Let’s hope the poems give him the strength to keep going.

    Liked by 2 people

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  17. Pingback: this is not one of them — Daydreaming as a profession – Writing Me Up

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