Thread: Today the earth chirped like a bird

Standing beside the window
watching all things
less sophisticated,
young men go by
in their cars
making a commotion
when they pass the ladies
with my window open
their music
rambles through my ears
and up into the blue.

I see a couple
across the way
looking somewhat regal
as they saunter down the sidewalk
almost like
the road they travel belongs to them
and perhaps it does.
Maybe all the sidewalks
on this planet
belong to them
and they are
just so courteous
in letting the simple folk
tread the path with them
then they are gone,
out of sight.

I think I will be the only one
that notices them today
the king remarks to himself.

The world
to some big, others small
goes on down there
never knowing
it belongs to me.
Me, the Caesar,
who lives in his third story cave
drunk with power
pushing all the buttons
demolishing without prejudice
reforming the world
one disaster at a time
with every beat of my heart.

Though,
as the sun shines on my
unshaven face
I retrace the footsteps in my mind
back to that couple
to the young men and women
in their cars and in their arms.
Slowly gritting my teeth
I put out my cigarette
stick my head out the window
and breathe in the mountain air
full of its own songs and perfumes
its radical change
of a lifetime renewed.

If God, that old swindler,
has a heart
he’ll take me now
while tomorrow
the headlines shall read:
The King has died,
on the day the earth chirped like a bird.

Hi, Whit. For a momemt I thought you were going to have two stories going on. One contemplating everyday folk out of this window then in the fourth stanza "reforming the world". In the fifth I read:

I retrace the footsteps in my mind

And you return to the pedestrian street. I think you could use a stanza after the fourth to make some kind of connection to the "return". A bit divided as it stands now, in my mind.

I happen to like this very much. You give me physical idea of the character and personality and then the state of mind while taking in the world.

Slowly gritting my teeth
I put out my cigarette
stick my head out the window
and breathe in the mountain air
full of its own songs and perfumes
its radical change
of a lifetime renewed.

Brilliantly moving ending!

the headlines shall read:
The King has died,
on the day the earth chirped like a bird.

Another, please?! Laurie

Hey Whitaker, this was a fun read. Flowed very well for me. I like the streaming consciousness of the Caesar. In my opinion, that couple may as well have owned the sidewalk. They enjoyed it and used it for all its worth—what matters whose name is ultimately on the deed of the thing? Because an explorer lands on a new shore and plants a flag there, does that mean that all the animals who live and die in that land don't own it? What is owning, anyway? I doubt inanimate objects are aware of who or what "owns" them. Anyways, going off a little here.

I love the way you tell a story which on the surface seems very mundane, but has so much undercurrent going on.
The ending stanza had to be my favorite.

If God, that old swindler,
has a heart
he’ll take me now
while tomorrow
the headlines shall read:
The King has died,
on the day the earth chirped like a bird.

Love it, from beginning to end, that's all I have to say. Goodness, Whitaker, you've shut me up, kudos, love, keep doin' you.

Thank you for the comments. I didn't really intend to have this be two separate kind of stories. The fourth stanza were just my thoughts at that moment. I don't think it needs a bridge from 4 to 5 but I'll think about it. I'm glad you all enjoyed it.

It didn't feel like two stories to me, I thought it was well integrated. I don't think you need a bridge, either, I had no problem with the transition. Take that with a grain of salt, love, I'm just a wee bit weird.