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"The colors of life shift

within a fixed parameter,

movable blocks of shadow

and light, interchangeable

or not."

"Chaos is a friend of mine." ~Bob Dylan

"Chaos is a friend of mine." ~Bob Dylan
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These two creatures who have locked up my heart will be front and center in this little corner of blogosphere!

Monday, August 16, 2010

He Tells Me About the Tar Monster

Another new poem.  We shake our head at the tales that our Connor spins here and at school.  They are a combination of reality, Connor's reality, fantasy and facts he's read or heard. 

He tells me
about the
Tar Monster
who eats kids
was seventeen.
It ate an entire village.
I question
and he tells me he
Googled it
but it’s no longer there.
It scared people
so they took it away.

and Presidents
his family
so a teacher
informs us.
There are details
only he knows.
Nessie is real;
it’s a fact.
I learned of a bird
at our feeder
that is not found
in Texas. It’s
an Oklahoma bird
that must be lost.

He says
he sees
people we
can’t see,
and we
this is not
part of his disorder.
When a therapist
the details
then melt
into the nebulous
web of his psyche.

This child
of my heart
his reality
like cotton candy
on a warm day,
sticky details that
with the telling,
he keeps spinning,
in the tale,
his mind
a web of
whirling fancy.
I can see him
and I am mystified.



Algernon said...

That's sweet. I enjoyed his imagination.

Kelly said...

Connor definitely lives in a world of his own.

Marion said...

The little guy has an amazing imagination! He may become a writer or a game inventor.

I remember when my youngest was about 6 or 7 and we lived in Minden. She'd come in from playing and I'd ask her what she'd been doing. She would reply, "I've been playing with Tommy and his Grandmother." I never thought much of it because we had neighbors with lots of kids. She was going on and on about them one night before bed so I asked her which house they lived in. Not even missing a beat she replied, "They don't live in a house, Mama. They live in that big tree in our back yard." I asked April about it and April said, Oh, yeah, Mom, those are her imaginary friends. She kept them for about a year and one day I asked her about them and she said they moved away. You've got to love those fertile imaginations! Great post, Pammie. Blessings!!

quid said...

His thoughts kind of stop you in your tracks. Maybe that's a good thing!


raven said...


A very touching yet excellent poem!