12-21-2013, 03:18 AM
Hi there I am quite fond of this poem so I am really eager to get it improved
The Bumbler
The bumbler bumbles about his day,
Curious but independent of what the world has to say
Silent pitched until it is necessitated,
Iris gasping, through his eyes all things are laminated
Till he slumbers into his radiant dreams,
Where the colours revive and emotions run like streams
He walks around as the unquestioned dot,
Quiescent in his stroll and museful in his paused squat
A constant traveller of the spherical land,
Without a destination, unperturbed by rain, snow or sand
For he knows there is nothing to find,
So he purely sits back to watch the mazes of life unwind
A careless and lonely viewer,
Of our tentacular film, watching from cloud to sewer
He breathes in our woes and slants,
Exhaling historicity just like the sternest plants
Never the reprimander, always the watcher,
The doors will open for him since his arrival is his departure
A ghost like leaf, breezing here and there,
Just a chip and a chink on this rock, he will always remember
Spongeable and powerful,
But receding in the background, fanciful
Constantly entertained,
By our brags, drags and grabs, his joy is self-contained
Some of us will choose this path, becoming an eternal explorer,
Scarifying our humanity to become its mirror
The Bumbler
The bumbler bumbles about his day,
Curious but independent of what the world has to say
Silent pitched until it is necessitated,
Iris gasping, through his eyes all things are laminated
Till he slumbers into his radiant dreams,
Where the colours revive and emotions run like streams
He walks around as the unquestioned dot,
Quiescent in his stroll and museful in his paused squat
A constant traveller of the spherical land,
Without a destination, unperturbed by rain, snow or sand
For he knows there is nothing to find,
So he purely sits back to watch the mazes of life unwind
A careless and lonely viewer,
Of our tentacular film, watching from cloud to sewer
He breathes in our woes and slants,
Exhaling historicity just like the sternest plants
Never the reprimander, always the watcher,
The doors will open for him since his arrival is his departure
A ghost like leaf, breezing here and there,
Just a chip and a chink on this rock, he will always remember
Spongeable and powerful,
But receding in the background, fanciful
Constantly entertained,
By our brags, drags and grabs, his joy is self-contained
Some of us will choose this path, becoming an eternal explorer,
Scarifying our humanity to become its mirror