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patterns of ink

How fruitless to be ever thinking yet never embrace a thought... to have the power to believe and believe it's all for naught. I, too, have reckoned time and truth (content to wonder if not think) in metaphors and meaning and endless patterns of ink. Perhaps a few may find their way to the world where others live, sharing not just thoughts I've gathered but those I wish to give. Tom Kapanka

Friday, November 03, 2006

Grow Slowly, Girl

Grow slowly, Girl.
... I’ll try to bring what’s best
... and let you pass the dappled day
... asleep upon my chest.
Dream gently, Babe,
... in whimsy whispered rhyme.
... Wake when you wish. Grow slowly, Girl.
The world has a way with time.














The world, little girl,
... has a bus to catch,
... a west-bound bus to the sun
... that makes the young wish to be old
... and the old wish to be young.
The world, little girl,
... is a clatter of heels
... a stumble down cluttered halls,
... a rush toward the flicker of neon
... and florescent painted walls.
The world knows all the short cuts,
... broad ways of a narrow sort,
... all the black-brick, back alley short cuts
... to things too soon cut short.
Yes, the world, little girl,
... has a bus to catch.
... It hasn’t the time to stay.
... It doesn't know where it’s going
... but finds the fastest way.

Grow slowly, Girl.
... I’ll try to bring what’s best
... and let you pass the dappled day
... asleep upon my chest.
Dream gently, Babe,
... in whimsy whispered rhyme.
... Wake when you wish. Grow slowly, Girl,
... The world has a way with time.
.
© Copyright 1985, TK, Patterns of Ink
Originally entitled: "To Emily" 1985
Some thoughts I recall from the notes of this poem: The word "dappled" is usually used to describe something showing both light and darkness like the way sun shines on a picnic blanket under a shade tree. I also used it because of its subliminal association (at least in my mind) with "The 59th Street Bridge Song," [“I’ve got no place to go; no promises to keep; I’m dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep.”] The line "black-brick back alley short cuts" was an image from my memories of when my father took us at night to the YMCA in old downtown Detroit. (It was torn down to build Ford Field.) The dark alley between the parking lot and the "Y" was very scary to me. And lastly, the tone of this piece was influenced by some work by Lew Sarett, a seldom-cited poet I studied in college. The final line, "The world has a way with time" was inspired by a line in a Sarett poem about sad eyes. I'm also found of Sarett's his bittersweet Four Little Foxes and "Let Me Go Down to Dust."

4 Comments:

Blogger patterns of ink said...

Thank you for being a daddy who understood the importance of "Growing Slowly." I love you, The Mom

4/11/06 10:00 PM  
Blogger Nancy said...

WOW! You have a very special talent and I appreciate your sharing it. Your daughter is one special lady. I loved the picture...I think we had a couch like that. May God bless you as you prepare for the wedding.
Blessings,
Nancy

5/11/06 7:05 PM  
Blogger patterns of ink said...

Nancy, that couch came from Thomasville, NC in the early '80s. Maybe that's why it looks familiar. We used to live in the south and bought the couch in SC-- then brought it "up north." :)
We left it in the basement of "the little blue house" when we moved to Lovejoy Street.

6/11/06 6:49 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Has your daughter read this yet? I think she will like it. I'm sharing it with my two daughters.

15/11/06 7:48 PM  

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