A Knockdown, Dragout Dustup, a Poem

My long, Media Rich Hub

From off the dusty road

I drag my old poor car, sticking

my tongue out on the hills-

helping her up the humps...

catch up on stuff...

Ooohhh, A letter from Hubpages!


Your" The stars sing to me"

will not be featured. We do not find

it's format appealing.

Etc.


I piss better ideas than you will ever have.

If you want me off the site.

Be a Man, even if you're a girl,

and just ****ing say so!

My brain is so full of love,

even for the lost,

I help people walk,

mere stick-birds of people,

helping them journey on-

sliding the car to a stop for fireweed-

which should not bloom for a month,

this curious vessel,

so full of love,

so confounded and grieved by hate-

now, as always, when it happens,

cries gouts of tears,

not of hate,

but joy-

is this what confounds you?

that you do not control me?

Do you think you should?

Will the world go clockwise,

march on, better without me?


I will tell you what I have told

anyone wishing to tame wild horses-

love them, let them run,

or kill them. Let them die.


I cast foul scorn on walls,

and boundaries,

and human interventions!


Now, I will tell you a different story,

the only one that matters.

I, and everyone worth salt

will challenge anything, for

good or ill...

that's not yet known.

And now...

here is my story.

I was born on the 13th,

on a September day,

and left to grow inside, alone,

not knowing anything until I was informed

by words.

From the beginning,

and till the last bittersweet end,

that will be the only thing

that matters.

and anything in the way

is evaporated in morning dew;

I see fireweed shake and crack

out the ground, fearsome desire to live,

and sheaves of bluebells to wade into,

to fall into, dreams of infant joy;

and days of watching people die-

their last spark touched when

I say, "I love you!" and mean it,

If you can follow this oubliette I

call my mind, then, by all means,

strip search me, like life has.

and I'll fade, as all things do.

from the minds of the readers.

But look.

If I am so atrocious, so unsolvent,

then just stamp me out. Now.

Please do not send me advice.

Ye Gods. It's a bit too late for that.

Christ in Heaven has walked with me,

The grace of elders upholds me,

Go ahead little man, or woman,

show how little

you are.

5 comments

Made profile image

Made 3 years ago from Finland

So many things to say, and you said them very well.


lilyfly profile image

lilyfly 3 years ago from Wasilla, Alaska Author

Finland? Yo ? I am Finish, and have been there! Please talk to me!!! lily


Moonfroth 3 years ago

LILY -- As you're fond of saying, "Love yaz!" Whoever sent you that "letter" would have to be made of stone and eat 4" spikes for breakfast not to be, at minimum, embarrassed, after reading this Hub. We won't try for "moved". Would you do me the favour of cutting and pasting the whole thing to me in an e-mail. Thanks.

You know how I feel--you're wasting your talent on ANY site that tries to straitjacket you. You should at least be publishing chapbooks and other small beginnings that don't cost anything. Check out Amazon.

You write from that big heart of yours, and when that fuses with your amazing imagination and oneness with language, you're unstoppable. HP is NOT particularly interested in Poetry. No

money to be made there . But you NEED the daily outlet--I get that. But this bullshit has to stop. I'm going to take on HP executive staff.


Made profile image

Made 3 years ago from Finland

Hi again lily, you're probably the first Finn I've met on HubPages. Where in Finland have you been? Nice to meet you!


xstatic profile image

xstatic 3 years ago from Eugene, Oregon

Clark is right again on this and on your work in general.

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