Nicholas Jones
replying on Ode to Larkbeat Twoshoes by Nicholas Jones
20 Oct 2002, 4:11 AM
The first seven lines I wrote years ago, probably at the time the poem describes, the rest I wrote last week. For some reason, those seven lines have stayed in my mind for the last five years, exactly as I wrote them, while I've forgotten the rest. So I invented a new ending. There is a bit of a shift between the two parts, but I'm not sure that's a bad thing.
thank you
it's good
i have read you all tonight in one sitting. this one almost by lamplight, hearing the sirens overhead. all brown, scuffed, muddy and other worldwarly in the daily death of the common man, our very own brother.
floating somewhere above us were you?
i know this star-less space all to well. dead is dead.
watched closely. i would love to see you sketching these as you watch ever so closely.
you too know of love lost and lament. the heart beats heartier every time as the light of love dims.... be not afraid of offering another lick.
hyde parked?
breaking up is hard to do, so get your stuff b4 you end it through and through.
There is absolutely not a single ounce of angst in these writings.
when the steam dissipates, me thinks he will remain pondering his rippling flesh, looking no deeper than his bones.
this could be a film, for its 24xsecond imaging in my eye. keep rolling.
a tribute to all us rankers. i etched somewhere near the heart and diaphragm.
how the angst gets top rank in our darkened nights. waiting for the light and day to pronounce victorious over all of us.
no time to lament!
how we try to image Him into our humanity.... He is always ready, are we willing?