The School Library
by
James Shammas
(Age: 44)
copyright 12-01-2005
Age Rating: 13 to 127
...and only now does the
Forty years of chest pounding,
The night-sweats and the tinnitus,
Remind me I must go back,
See his bulging temples
Burning under the coffee grounds
Meant for the cup she shattered,
Striking him square in the face.
How a tasteless remark about
A ring around the collar
Set off the shrieks of thunder,
The twisted bolts of fire
Shooting me out the heavy door
Toward the school library
Where I sat and stared at
Paper meadows and printed worlds.
And only now does the gentle prodding
And the coaxing toward the leather couch
Ease the rhythm of more grounded voices,
Permitting my hearing, my seeing
The little boy reading "Born Free"
Among the silent stacks, Elsa's cubs
Licking wounds or simply grooming,
Nestled closely on a lazy day.
Help Us Stop Plagiarism -
Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize.
To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste.
click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before
you recommend or rate the work highly...
I love your poems because they're so vivid and so real. So nostalgic. I can relate because many of the same experiences have happened to me at one time or another. You have a knack for turning everyday experiences into larger-than-life feelings---a real gift. A library always seemed to me to be the perfect sanctuary---
quiet, guarded, somehow sacred. It gave me a certain sense of invisibility---as does poetry.
You did a wonderful job of sending me back to my own childhood which was filled with a domineering father causing me to leave home as quickly as possible. I haven't had any sense of family,ever.
Coming to terms with the child is often the hardest adjustment we make as an adult and the most painful. As usual you are at your most eloquent when reaching back for inspiration. The library memories (Gosh how safe, I too, felt within its walls)are so moving and poignant. Those lines explain a lot about the 'learned man' I have come to know and admire. I am so glad that the child narrator had this refuge and and that step by small step the adult narrator is coming to grips with having needed one.
Your poem sends a very powerful message to me. It gave me chills as I read it and absored every word. Wonderful visionary. I could see and taste the silent anguish building up in the poem. Again, very nice.
Sincerely, Leeann