Quasimodo (speaks)



Quasimodo (Speaks)

Is tha’ I gan’t ta’k too good
Tha’ keep me silent, not my mood

They thin’ I brooding monstrosity
All thin’ so, ’cept, not she

I feel so shame when she look at me
I wish someway she see only heart of me

It sometime seem somehow she do
Esmeralda, I play my bells for you

Her touch soft not like whip they use
When for sport they me abuse

Mob laugh to see me bleed
Quasimodo’s life is made of need

They eyes, like church, cold as stone
Poor Quasimodo feel so alone

She gave me water
Gypsy lady gave me water

Water to me deaf, ugly, half blind
Would that God were half so kind

She not see my awkward gait
She know, like me, inside, I straight

She dance like candle flames in the rectory do
I glad to have just one eye, couldn’t stand such pretty if I had two

Her smile like melody. Like me, she wear no shoes
No pity me, but be’s my friend. Like my bells do

Though I not hear, I feel them sway
My gargoyle friend speak to me someway
Inside my head I tell him say
Dear lady-inside-my-heart, that I will someday

When worthless life of me has passed
In heaven, with angel’s ears, hear you laugh

Oh Esmeralda, until that day,
I will in shadows of the spire love and play

My lovely bells only for you

About this poem

love story

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Written on November 13, 1992

Submitted by steve-edwards on May 12, 2022

Modified on March 05, 2023

1:18 min read
56

Quick analysis:

Scheme XX AA AA BB CC DD EE FF GG HH BB XB IIII XX II B
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 1,253
Words 263
Stanzas 16
Stanza Lengths 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 4, 2, 2, 1

Wm. Stephen (stebe) Edwards

Mr. Edwards is 75 years old. Raised on dryland cotton farm in West Texas. B.A. English, Tex. Tech. U. 1965. Decorated Vietnam veteran, M.S. Speech/Language Pathology and Audiology, Tech Tex U. 1972. Divorced, two daughters. Currently retired as a Speech/Language Pathologist in Austin, TX “Poets are truthsayers. They give us the world in a mirror of words. Words must be bound with caring discipline, else, like children, else they run amok”. more…

All Wm. Stephen (stebe) Edwards poems | Wm. Stephen (stebe) Edwards Books

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