My legs they are two creaking things,
Battered, bruised and spotted sticks,
Before the matters of head and heart,
My leg problem I need to fix.
My joints are hinges in need of oil,
My shins pillars with chips and cracks,
My heels the surface of the pitted moon,
My toenails gnarled as a tortoise's back.
Just as the green boughs of flowering trees,
Give pleasure to the gazing eye,
While the aging roots stay out of sight
That's the story of my body, say I.
As the farmer his plough or the sun its course,
I drive my two feet on and on,
Running, walking, moving, moving
Till the day is spent and my strength is gone.
The head is the centre of the human being,
The legs that empire's last outpost,
Like cavalry, they figure the least,
When for their monarch they do the most.
Animals have paws and birds have wings,
And we our legs, so heavy and slow.
My legs they are two creaking things,
O legs! stay strong, we have far to go.
9 comments:
Animals have paws and birds have wings,
And we our legs, so heavy and slow.
My legs they are two creaking things,
O legs! stay strong, we have far to go!
First time here but amazing to read this poetry...kudos! Keep writing
Cheers
My legs they are two creaking things
They creak and shriek in mad despair
That's why I have switched to wheels
The legs have been sent for repair.
Dude!
If you think your body's failing you now, just wait and see what happens when you cross 30! The legs are connected to the spine. Nuff said.
Joyful to read writing with wit and insight.
Lovely read. Hope to see more poetry like this on here in the future.
[PS: If the legs are that bad, then shorten your run up :-) ]
Equivocal - yes, I do see your point. At this rate I will disintegrate in a few years. I need to take better care of my legs. But I've just returned from Cambridge, where buses are so expensive that one walks everywhere, to Bombay, where walking is so traumatic that one takes the bus everywhere. Now my legs feel much better - anyway, it was only because they were creaking things that I have been speaking things.
Salil - you have hit upon the other reason for my creaking legs. Fast bowling is hard enough on the body, but it's the long walk down to fine leg between overs and all the sprinting to catch up with flick shots left and right that really drains a man's strength. If only other bowlers would bowl a better off-stump line, then I'd have a bit more strength.
I tried bowling legbreaks for a bit, but they don't make the blood run in quite the same way - spin bowling is clearly a more cerebral art, and I do enough cerebral things writing every day and answering questions like these. Anyway, as it's now monsoon time in Bombay, all cricket is out for a bit.
Meant to say one more thing-- you have a pretty strong control of iambic metre in your verse ~ this may be through conscious training, or just rhythms well heard and remembered from the classical English canon. Either way it's pretty rare these days! Have you tried playing around with other metres? -- cheers, eq.
Equivocal - as some smart person once said, every different meter is a new mode of thought. At my level it's all I can do to manage this one kind properly. No matter how I begin, and what I want to say, I always end up sounding like this.
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