And there he was, blue eyed boy,
Greeting me hello, bashfull, shy.
For one ephermal moment, I understood,
Wishing to be Whitman, I wished to be gay.
How can one not love, my blue eyed boy?
I read about him in the papers,
Yes, I'm sure it was him, the picture,
And the way she described his brimming
baby blues, it couldn't have been anyone else.
My blue eyed boy shot-up a jewlery store, Bang!Bang!
Two dead one surivor and a beautiful blue
afternoon. Blue eyes... so like water ripples.
eh, the story’s in the poem. I only meant to say that it wasn’t made up, it’s true, it really happened, life is absurd. period. period. period. But aint it just beautiful! … Disturbing is the word to use km2 - quite on the mark.
Bummer. I wanted details… Never mind; some things are more interesting if left unexplained.
For you, TUM, the word may have been ‘disturbing’ (you were inside the emotions) but for me on the outside looking in, the word was ‘fascinating’ – disturbingly so.
As I mentioned elsewhere, I’m totally fascinated by how contrasts often meet, merge and overlap until they become each other and this was a fantastic example of that: the beautiful water-blue eyes that were capable of seeing so much blood-red horror and the bashful boy who, at last, overpowered everyone and forced them to experience a lifetime of cowering squashed into a few seconds.
I desperately wanted to get closer to this beautiful, bashful boy (he reminded me of a dead friend/lover) but I was repelled by the evil that lay behind his “water ripple” eyes. This was the constant struggle I had with my dead friend. You captured the feeling exquisitely.
Keep writing TUM, your work gets better and better. 10/10.
Never mind; some things are more interesting if left unexplained.