Friday, November 18, 2011

Somehow Brought Up


Somehow brought up
    on the rules of the game

Somehow brought up
    to the plate

Somehow brought up
    to look straight in the eye

Somehow brought up
    to lead off the base

Somehow brought up
    to field ground balls

Somehow brought up
    to think on the fly

Somehow brought up
    alone


— Mark Butkus




25 comments:

  1. What a sad ending!!! :(

    http://lynnaima.wordpress.com/2011/11/19/personae/

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  2. keep it up.

    visit 18 poets from your peers, let us know after you are done.

    :)

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  3. lynnaima,
    Sad? Really?
    I was hopeful that it offered possibilities. That even though some are dealt losing hands in life, in childhood, one can rise beyond their circumstance, their environment, even if done alone.

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  4. Yes, I agree with your response-- there is an open door ahead. Nice write!

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  5. Thank you, Marilyn. Yes, there is always a door ahead.

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  6. invite you to join poetry picnic today, simply share a relevant or a random piece, and enjoy!
    Happy Thanksgiving,
    Always, your presence is sunshine to us.
    Best Wishes!

    your talent rocks.
    xoxox

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  7. I'm in!
    #77 with a bullet!
    Lots of good reading this week.

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  8. This appealed to all of my emotions

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  9. Meethimirchi, I'm glad that it resonated with you.

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  10. There is sadness but also resilience. The repitition gives it depth. Don't know how you managed that but it works really well. Well done.

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  11. you know all the happy baseball thoughts got snuffed like a candle with that last word...made my stomach clench and think of disconnected fathers...

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  12. Brian, there is a definite disconnect, a disconnect where both parties - father and son - lose out on tender moments shared.

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  13. Adura Ojo,

    Thank you. We are nothing if not resilient.

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  14. Somehow brought up
    alone ...this made me sad and moved me. a hard truth.

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  15. alone

    That last word made my stomach clench. All through the poem, my thoughts were on team and companionship. That last word made me realize that being raised to fulfill a parent's dream is a lonely state and is the focus of your poem.

    Wonderful use of repetition as a poetic device with a twist at the end that no one will forget.

    Beth

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  16. our past need not dictate the future...

    i find this to be quite inspiring.. much enjoyed this!!
    lynne
    thewordbar.wordpress.com

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  17. ugh..your ending ended the flight abruptly... well penned mark

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  18. All the quality of being alone.. and survive... I enjoyed this very much.

    Shashi
    ॐ नमः शिवाय
    Om Namah Shivaya
    http://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com/2011/11/whispers-sighs.html
    At Twitter @VerseEveryDay

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  19. Raised by a succession of stepfathers,
    I trotted along the stanzas as an
    outrider, but the last lines zeroed
    in on the truth, and I recognized
    myself in the piece; nice work.

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  20. A sadly familiar story. Great grand slam ending!

    http://charleslmashburn.wordpress.com/2011/12/11/mostly-about-the-past/

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  21. wow!!! that ending knocked me off my chair :( how sad!

    enjoy the gooseberry day!

    http://lynnaima.wordpress.com/2011/12/12/a-dream-and-a-whisper/

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  22. some sad reality check, well done.

    :)

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  23. At this time of year, for some the loneliest time of the year, it would be nice if no one was alone. Regardless of how we were brought up.

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