Out Of Focus

A smudge of a man,
he trudged the blur between
a can-do attitude,
a cruel demeanor,
and pooled eyes
hollowed out
by too many years of
smearing his fists
against his tears.

by David Nelson Bradsher

Comments (2)

Out of place and out of time, out of well-defined features, watery sense of isolation and dramatic double-face not overlapping in a clear portrait/photo: I look at this poem of yours as at sort of living sketch, a charcoal drawing of a mask fighting and playing years of indefinite sadness on good intensions; a static powerlessness which excavates a deep pond inside Those eyes look like the Ancient Mariner’s eyes without their impelling power A very good poem, in my opinion A cluster of hard sounds in the first 5 lines gives and evokes the idea of harsh digging, at the 6th line the turning point melts into the sweeter flowing of tears, a cluster of /s/ sounds
This is very nice, David. You captured it in so few words. Nice to see you posting again. Raynette