Tag: literary character

An itch

Published on by Maciej ModzelewskiLeave a comment

With the linden tree within reach,
if it weren’t for the glass,
Mr Honk appreciated the humility
of sitting by the window,
where he could read in peace,
stretched out on a folding garden chair—
a rather unusual piece of furniture
for a living room—
and even the sun rays, here and there
breaking through the branches,
were not too intrusive,
but he would never have admitted
that he was actually looking forward
to the arrival of July, so that he could fill
the marginalia with linden blossoms
and bumblebees buzzing amongst
the words.

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To meet all

Published on by Maciej ModzelewskiLeave a comment

Born into Mickiewicz’s,
living Shakespeare’s,
Mr Honk didn’t truly belong
to either language,
but he still tried hard
to meet all
the singular beings—
each one its own portmanteau—
that inhabited the block
of flats he lived in
or perhaps just
the bookshelf.

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Epistolary impediment

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Mr Honk suddenly felt the urge to write a letter,
only to end up writing a whole four and freezing
after that affectionate salutation when he realised
he had no addressee.

In his juvenile days he’d most likely write to Santa,
but now a bottle message seemed the only option,
though he was out of Diamant Bleu, and there was
the matter of pollution.

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Mr Nothing’s inheritance

Published on by Maciej ModzelewskiLeave a comment

An inherited maisonette with a desk
and a somewhat belittled yet elaborate vocabulary
set the stage for Mr Honk to start a new life.

He never met that distant relative,
whose title turned out to be a misreading
of the initials of his first and middle names,
from the time when he refused to use capital letters—
but Mr Honk learnt that only from the headstone:
Meroz R. Nothing, né niczy.

No wonder Mr Nothing had never cried
out for an act of sincerity
and grief.

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Whispers of immortality

Published on by Maciej ModzelewskiLeave a comment

With a nameplate on his door
and a stanza in his wallet,
Mr Honk stumbled upon
the first smidgeon of perpetuity,
but as a newborn he looked back
at the five decades of his life
with a hint of reservation—
fate might have spared him
the habitual thumb-munching
but not the descriptive grammar:

You ain’t lived nothing yet!

More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com