now lets see
how does one compute
his courage
I wonder aloud
my friend tells me
it ain't wilderness my friend
'less there's a critter out there
than can kill you and eat you
and the theory of relativity
is a burden my shoulders
are okay with so far, but how
much further to the next town
and I without a twelve gauge
dancing like a fool in the trees
of the black bear, hoping these
teeny branches at the tip-top
will hold Me, but not him.
all roads lead to roam
all roads lead to roam
If you do not change your direction
you may end up where you are heading
you may end up where you are heading
Re: all roads lead to roam
haha. reminds me of an old jerry reed song my dad used to play a lot, "the preacher and the bear." i forget how that one ends though, oddly enough. suppose i'll have to google it now. interesting juxtapose of road rumination of a sort with "comic frontier plight"...
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Re: all roads lead to roam
dang- bear got ya up a tree there?
reason is over rated, as is logic and common sense-i much prefer the passions of a crazy old woman, cats and dogs and jungle foliage- tropic rain-and a defined sense of who brings the stars up at night and the sun up in the morning---
Re: all roads lead to roam
The poem creeps upon you aided by random distractions—an ancient haiku rustles the underbrush, a childhood memory breaks for a moment into the clearing. You think you sense a poem out there, lurking in the hot and hazy afternoon. No . . . it’s nothing--and you look away. Stray not far from the metaphor. Remember this as fangs sink into your head, and you fall before the ambush, the threads of your guts scattered over the ground for you to write.
You bend and twist under the assault, wonder which crunch and tear will be the last. Soon ideas are circling about, little fiends watching from outside the perimeter while insatiable creative force feasts.
In the end, nothing is left but some bones committed to a peculiar arrangement vaguely marking your fall and the few words you gleaned from your drying tripes.
You bend and twist under the assault, wonder which crunch and tear will be the last. Soon ideas are circling about, little fiends watching from outside the perimeter while insatiable creative force feasts.
In the end, nothing is left but some bones committed to a peculiar arrangement vaguely marking your fall and the few words you gleaned from your drying tripes.
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- Posts: 4660
- Joined: September 15th, 2005, 3:23 am
- Contact:
Re: all roads lead to roam
pretty awesome
reason is over rated, as is logic and common sense-i much prefer the passions of a crazy old woman, cats and dogs and jungle foliage- tropic rain-and a defined sense of who brings the stars up at night and the sun up in the morning---
Re: all roads lead to roam
thanx for all the great comments, appreciate the details immensely....have a great week !
If you do not change your direction
you may end up where you are heading
you may end up where you are heading
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