Sometimes its the end of the world
and sometimes its not
Sometimes you remember
What you thought you forgot
Sometimes the ogres
Are waiting to pounce
Sometimes the fairies
Grant you an ounce
Sometimes the treasure
Is a doorbell away
Sometimes the pleasure
Is here to stay
Sometimes the cracks
are gaping wide
Sometimes the fire
Is swept aside
and yet the leaves just smoulder
for every rock and boulder
you carry on your shoulder
as the weight just pulls you under
and all you hear is thunder
and the forest splits asunder
and the trees can't help but wonder
why you walked this way at all
perhaps it was to burn, laugh, play
with colours of the fall?
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19 comments:
If you're not careful you'll start looking like Dylan too. Or even worse, sounding like him.
But this is good.
when is the pleasure ever here to stay?
Anon: thanks. that was unexepected :) and who says I don't look like him :P
ricercar: oh damn...poetic license? or am I supposed to say "in your dreams..." :D
in the fall, tomatoes shine in the sun with red hearts -- so i hear.
which way are you walking?
i enjoyed reading this one.
the following line popped into my head as i read the last two lines:
or to be buried under the falling wall?
doc: the wrong way..as always :(
will roast those tomatoes alive
kinkminos: yeah 'fall' isn't about just colour is it? its all drying up and dying..
i'm singing the words like a rock star!!
This refrain has been pounding in my head since yesterday:
And you start gettin chills and yer jumping from sweat
And you're lookin for somethin you ain't quite found yet
And yer knee-deep in the dark water with yer hands in the air
And the whole world's a-watchin with a window peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like fish when they're fryin
And yer jackhammer falls from yer hand to yer feet
And you need it badly but it lays on the street
And yer bell's bangin loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think yer ears might a been hurt
Or yer eyes have turned filthy from the sight-blindin dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterdays rush
When you were faked out an fooled while facing a four flush
And all the time you were holdin three queens
And it's makin you mad, it's makin you mean
Like in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin around a pinball machine
.
.
.
And you yell to yourself and you throw down yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be like that
Ain't there no one here that knows where I'm at
Ain't there no one here that knows how I feel
Good God Almighty
That stuff ain't real"
Bob Dylan - Last Thoughts on Woody G
Inks, have you ever thought of writing lyrics for a band you admire? Not some mainstream wanna be band, but an artist, who, like yourself (?) cares to reach others, or maybe just themselves with such wonderful words?
To say the rhyming is clever would be a disservice to you. Maybe it's just me needing to find meaning in everything, but I think I get it, and I like it.
Inkblot:
I trust you don't mind my drawing inspiration from your work.
Here.
indeed this is good
I don't want to flatter you but you're quite brilliant.
still got what it takes.
x
I wonder what the fairies grant you an ounce of.
I enjoyed this poem. Fall can also be regarded as a season of hope- for it eventually gives way to spring :)
The poetry is in sync with the season & seems to be with the season of the heart too!
why you walked this way at all
perhaps it was to burn, laugh, play
with colours of the fall?
lovely!!!
hey really killer!
is it only me, or do poems that don't rhyme reflect a fundamental lack of effort?
good blog, great piece.
cheers..
The dude,
It's just you. :p
Inkblot,
Nice and philosophical. In the right mood for it. Ah, who am I kidding.. When was I ever not in the mood for some feel-good philosophy!
Simple and unpretentious, as always.
^_^ makes me feel young again. I needed that.
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