Lessons in life (Part 3 Talking is good)

 


He placed the dinosaurs on the front line,
the flanks and rear were covered by a box
of plastic US Marines, moulded in pale green.
The all seeing eye of a make shift Mordor
released the rolling death of a steel ball
that decimated the soldiers and rendered
dinosaurs extinct. The day was saved
by a red Power Ranger who dispatched
destruction without speaking.

As he grew, the soldiers turned mercs
and fought campaigns on the Broken Shore
serving the Legionfall in a world of warcraft
without question.
The room seemed smaller, films and books
to cry and laugh, conversations typed-out
over and over using the same words
without moving his mouth.

His paint was wearing thin, cracks
held back by fillers bought on prescription,
the threshold of the front door saw
a chocolate Labrador trying
to cross a three lane motorway,
emotions slammed on the hard shoulder
by some girl racer, who could talk her prey
onto any cliff-top walk of desperation.

The internet found another hand until they spoke
one real word inside the real world “hello”
The cafe turned into coffee and kitchen tables,
for eight hours she peeled back his slightly torn
crinkled wrap, feeling for the soft edges,
trying to understand the shape of his gifts.
Before she left, she made her three guesses.
A mirror that would only contain glimpses,
Shoes that allowed you to swap places
and a beat up red Power Ranger,
that would always be there to save the day.

© savvi 2020
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critique and comments welcome.
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Mikeverdi

I always enjoy reading your work, this is no different. So much to enjoy so many great lines. ‘Some girl racer, who could talk her prey onto any clifftop walk of desperation’ superb my friend
Mike

TheRecluse

Yes, great poetry Keith. Richly long, but worth careful reading to enjoy the skill of descriptive word use as the messaging progresses.
Trevor

Jolen

I have to agree with the others before me. Each verse holds gems and they tie together in the conclusion very well. I especially liked this:
The cafe turned into coffee and kitchen tables,
for eight hours she peeled back his slightly torn
crinkled wrap, feeling for the soft edges,
trying to understand the shape of his gifts.

Superb!
blessings,
jolen

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