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.
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,
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 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.
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
From the beginning,
and till the last bittersweet end,
that will be the only thing
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.
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