Measure of Life on a Park Bench (poem)

by Stephen J Frankenberry

So, there was a poetry prompt from Leslie, who you can find to explore at LeslieScoble.com, to write a poem with the main stipulation being that your narrator be seated on a bench. The rest of the prompt’s details are here, The Bench: A monologue poem including Leslie’s own wonderful take on her own prompt.

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Measure of Life on a Park Bench

I used to try to talk to birds here

who always flew clear

the crumbs of my words not enough

for them to strut at my feet

instead always taking seat

at the bench down the way

where my words echoed blunt

dead

off a statue’s head

one commissioned

instead

to just sit

as art

on a bench

in a park

for birds to just sit

as art

on a bench

in a park

.

I used to try to talk to squirrels here

as I remembered the scamper of youth

where I too was cute

proud tail tall and fluffed

from cool back pocket combs

and brushes of ego and stories attention

but now resolute to just frolic

away

and mock

melancholic heart-wrenched tales

that

then tall

tail tale

of friends once said

aloud together

but now just in my head

long dead

.

I used to try to talk to passerby

who always hasten be passers bye

eye (s) not caught

in their hurries to add not to worries

of days that are harried and carried

with them past park benches

hurried quick

with dogs

on a leash

who would shoo from a lifted leg

when I moved my head

and I tried to talk to them too

Oh, how I wished to talk to them too

at least

at most

.

I used to try to talk to the statue

on the bench down the way

where my words to birds

flitted away

or those to squirrels for skittish reminder

the truths I had to tell

when I was still young well

well young

to the dogs I wondered would maybe come

unencumbered

of leash

break free

momentarily

be my ol’ best girl, Lady

at my feet

.

I am just art

commissioned

to sit

on a bench

in a park

just down the way

with stories not heard

made of stone

13 thoughts on “Measure of Life on a Park Bench (poem)”

  4. Thank you for your poignant and lyrical monologue, Stephen. I’m glad I’m not the only one who tries to talk to the birds!

    I really like this stanza,

    “I used to try to talk to the statue
    on the bench down the way
    where my words for birds
    flitted away”

    I like the form of your poem which beautifully expresses the imagery of a park bench, emotional subtext, and a deeply personal introspection. Bravo.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  6. So wordpress or something is being a dick and keeps telling me I’m not logged in when I try to to respond, but this is what I tried a few times to respond to your recent.

    Wonderful!

    “I sang with the ones who knew how the song could rise from the soil and through the bones of a living land”

    It’s all about song.

    Cheers David.

    Like

    Reply

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