deepundergroundpoetry.com
Outside the Fence
Standing outside the fence, I stare at this beautiful house
manicured lawns stretch straight across a lush expanse
of peaceful grass, drawing my eyes to the apex
of power in this place…
New details slowly become evident around these two feet
of captured viewing space, too distant to see an office
or towering figures pulling strings, I zero in on
elegant wrought iron…
Entwined with tines of fine designer fence they’ve placed
cheap metal poles and rusting wire to keep them safe
from us, normal average Americans just visiting
their fortified building…
Taken aback, I notice squares of wire have been clipped
and removed, perhaps as souvenirs succinctly snipped
remnants travel home to Seattle, Miami or Boise
through airport security…
Who would think to bring wire cutters as well as cameras
on their visit to the White House to collect Americana
of their very own to brag to their closest friends
we got to clip the fence…
Like grasping marvelous memories during a rock concert
broken pieces of dying guitars shattered on concrete
in the excitement of a spasm that lasts a moment
we bend down to own it…
But the glitter disappears, out of time and place at home
another trinket in the junk drawer, like a turkey bone
extracted from the crazy tales you tell of secretly
snipping away your piece…
Of homeland security from the people’s handsome house
protected from the people by a damaged cattle fence
we walk away and shake our heads in disbelief
when did it come to this…
Another grandiose American fairy tale stands diminished…
like when Elvis left the building.
manicured lawns stretch straight across a lush expanse
of peaceful grass, drawing my eyes to the apex
of power in this place…
New details slowly become evident around these two feet
of captured viewing space, too distant to see an office
or towering figures pulling strings, I zero in on
elegant wrought iron…
Entwined with tines of fine designer fence they’ve placed
cheap metal poles and rusting wire to keep them safe
from us, normal average Americans just visiting
their fortified building…
Taken aback, I notice squares of wire have been clipped
and removed, perhaps as souvenirs succinctly snipped
remnants travel home to Seattle, Miami or Boise
through airport security…
Who would think to bring wire cutters as well as cameras
on their visit to the White House to collect Americana
of their very own to brag to their closest friends
we got to clip the fence…
Like grasping marvelous memories during a rock concert
broken pieces of dying guitars shattered on concrete
in the excitement of a spasm that lasts a moment
we bend down to own it…
But the glitter disappears, out of time and place at home
another trinket in the junk drawer, like a turkey bone
extracted from the crazy tales you tell of secretly
snipping away your piece…
Of homeland security from the people’s handsome house
protected from the people by a damaged cattle fence
we walk away and shake our heads in disbelief
when did it come to this…
Another grandiose American fairy tale stands diminished…
like when Elvis left the building.
Published 10th Mar 2013
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likes 4
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comments 15
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10th Mar 2013 2:52pm
This is a very unique poem and the way the scene seems to pan out in front of the minds eye was effective. I could see it all quite clearly.
Is it true people clip the fence?
Great write :)
Is it true people clip the fence?
Great write :)
10th Mar 2013 5:59pm
Incredibly, Yes! At first I was astonished to see old rusty barnyard style fencing attached to the elegant wrought iron, but then when I looked closer for a good place to snap a picture, I saw numerous four or five inch cut away holes in it. I thought, how strange... Thank you so much, Shelley Marie; so appreciate your comments and astute question. :-)
11th Mar 2013 2:19am
10th Mar 2013 4:06pm
^^Unique indeed, you seem to have a spin on things individual to yourself entirely, make sure you don't lose it.
Excellent poetry :)
Excellent poetry :)
10th Mar 2013 6:06pm
Having never visited DC before, I was pretty much in awe of everything I saw, honestly. Statues, massive marble buildings, crowds of colorful visitors everywhere... Noticing the rusty old fence did not diminish my opinion - just added an unexpected dimension to it. Perhaps it was hastily added after nine-eleven?
Teehee, poets an d artists tend to notice every little detail, eh? Thank you so much, my friend - Peace, Mary Ann
Teehee, poets an d artists tend to notice every little detail, eh? Thank you so much, my friend - Peace, Mary Ann
10th Mar 2013 6:21pm
Outstanding, Maryann. You brought the experience which is fun and awe inspiring on its own to a whole new level. Terrific details and profound insights abound in this illuminating piece. What a great last line. Very, very impressive work!
11th Mar 2013 5:38pm
Tee, so glad you enjoyed that last line. I guess a reference to larger than life heroes - of which we still have plenty, but somehow they're not the same.
Thank you so much, Tony - really appreciate your thoughts on this. Take care, Mary Ann
Thank you so much, Tony - really appreciate your thoughts on this. Take care, Mary Ann
Anonymous
11th Mar 2013 10:20am
This piece is so very interesting, MaryAnn, & I agree about it's uniqueness. It is like being there & seeing everything through your journalistic eyes. A terrific write & enjoyed immensely! ON my reading list! :)
Carlene
Carlene
My friend Alan and I were there attending a convention of an anti-war group called "Iraq Veterans Against the War" of which we both are members... We slipped away from the rest to do our own little tour of DC. Then, even more surprising than noticing the fence, all of us normal average Americans were suddenly told to leave the area immediately.
Huh? Alan (a 23 year old disabled former Marine) started yelling at security "You f'ers can't do that, it's Our House!!" - I was petrified he'd get arrested... but somehow we got away from the guards without handcuffs!
Geez, I miss those days of speaking out, not considering the consequences! Cheers, Mary Ann
Huh? Alan (a 23 year old disabled former Marine) started yelling at security "You f'ers can't do that, it's Our House!!" - I was petrified he'd get arrested... but somehow we got away from the guards without handcuffs!
Geez, I miss those days of speaking out, not considering the consequences! Cheers, Mary Ann
Anonymous
12th Mar 2013 9:34pm
I'm far across the waters, from you, Mary Ann. Which makes your story even more interesting. Getting a first-hand view of things, through your eyes, I mean. Amazing! :)
Carlene
Carlene
13th Mar 2013 00:19am
Oh yes... both still living in democracies (I do believe), both countries with growing pains. I used to follow your politics a little bit, have a friend in Victoria who kept me up with it. Oh, and my grandpa John Coulter ran away to Australia when my mother was a little girl! Long, long story... :-)
Anonymous
13th Mar 2013 3:41am
Growing pains, [& cramps] indeed, Mary Ann! Your grandpa running away to Australia. Now my imagination's running riot at the thought! :)
14th Mar 2013 2:41pm
I should post my poem about it here on DU... ha-ha, never considered it before.
Thanks again, Carlene! :-)
Thanks again, Carlene! :-)
14th Mar 2013 6:30pm
Excellent writing Ravenwing. The poet's job is to record such things and inspire readers to observe little deatails such as wire thefts ! Thankyou.
15th Mar 2013 6:35pm
We had so many colorful folks on both sides of the family... my dad's side as well as mother's. Plenty of rich fodder for my pen should I ever run out of ideas. I very much miss them, sad to say they're no longer with us - but what would they think of today... I dare not speculate! Smiles...
