Some irony; as though the poor snail is always to blame for my clumsy foot!
Oh, why does a snail
have a shell?
It only serves to tell me,
when I tread,
that what was crunched
is now dead,
and that is what I dread.
D G Moody
© Dodgem 2023
I like it very much, excuse me for playing a bit with rephrasing and other poetic terms, but I think it has potential and you could nail it differently too if you want.
Oh, why does a snail
has to have a shell
that only serves to tell me,
when I, absent-minded, tread,
what is crunched may then be dead,
and this will always be my dread.
Oh me too! I simply hate it. In fact it upsets my whole day. Most people cannot understand the level of sensitivity that can transpose the mind into the snail. The ordinariness of it doing what a snail does.
Then the brutal murder of a rogue foot!
Extremely well done.
BTW I think you would have been ok to put these three poems , short as they are, under one heading on one page.
‘A Trinity of Thought’ perhaps
Thanks again to both – Alison and Nic. One of the things I hate – that crunch, and always unintended – I’m not a sadist! And I know they are pests…but? Anyway, thanks for the advice Alison – re posting together, I’ll certainly do that next time. And I will look at your suggestion Nic. I sort of put it out as whimsy, but you never know…
Hi Dougie, I see that you are experimenting with various styles and in this case, short poems. A lot can be said in few lines. I like this one in preference to the ‘apple’ one where the repetition of words was not, in my opinion, so effective.
You will receive many opinions and suggestions. By all means listen but don’t be over-influenced into changing them; in the final analysis, it is your work.
Best as ever, Luigi.
Thanks Luigi; I’m always glad to receive feedback; and yes, I’m still finding my way; and, being offered some good guidance on the site. One difficulty I have, is in just getting a line or phrase, sometimes in a dream, and then not being able to extend it into a longer piece – hence a predilection for short pieces. Also, an endless desire to revise – but don’t we all suffer from that? I will post a longer piece next week, the first poem I composed in 1995, in the monastery I was living in at that time.
Awww, that awful heart stopping crunch, a foot fall of regret. I could shed tears for the life I inadvertently took, matters not that it was a snail, it was a life. Loved the simplicity of this poem, I thought it spoke perfectly. sue.
Thanks Sue; I appreciate the feedback; and yes, how many times have we had that crunch! Usually for me when stepping outside in the dark.