got any holly hocks? open smocks?
golden locks? a Florentine box?
chewed up socks to wear?
I swear I left mine on a quinine lid
in Rhodesia last winter...
I'm about to splinter into
a thousand pieces at mass –
sit in a buckwheat chair
on a bluegrass strip
where it's safe to whistle Dixie -
once and for all.
Author notes
who would have thought Dr. Seuss was a Southerner?
Comments
1 - 21 of 21
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I do believe Critsstiena hit the nail on the head. I sometimes find myself not persay writitng a poem but merely voicing the muse inside and the meaning is already there inately just waitting for to reveal some wild subconscious revelation or expungement. and for the record.. Fuck al gore. but then i feel that way about most politicians, at least all post Thomas Jefferson era anyhow, but that was before dissidence was white washed in pig shit and viewed as unpatriotic rather than vigilant. but thats a horse of another color and i am running out of paint so I shall trot off into the watering trough and drowned a few pygmies before dessert.
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19 of 19
Did you know that Tommy Lee Jones (a Harvard graduate) recalls how his roommate, a fellow Southerner by the name of Al Gore, was so fascinated by the advent of the touch tone telephone that he learned to play Dixie on the push pads as though it were a keyboard … and then played the tune for friends and visitors as entertainment...
I am full of useless information, am I not? As for your poem, why does it have to make sense? Example: Why do we drive on a parkway but park in a driveway? Makes no sense to me. Why do deathrow inmates get a sterile needle for lethal injection? Who puts pull dates on sour cream?
I believe that to someone, the poem will always make sense in one way or another. A totally random choice of words may for instance be interpreted as a symbol for the poet's state of mind, or how he sees the world. Nothing is fully without meaning. Such is my faith.
~ crissy ♥
PS. I like it.
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and Al's been fixated on phone tone logic ever since. it's probably why he believes we're melting our own earth. too bad weather records are only about 100 years old...your information is not useless, and my poem makes perfect sense - to me and the little voices that keep talking to me. your faith is a rudimentary belief in that which you believe. does anyone really have the right to argue with it? wonderful commentary - thank you so much... gotta go do some whistling now.
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I dunno, sir. I work with ya and tryta help ya and stuff and ya still commence with this genius, sideways imagry and stuff that fits together when it shouldn't ... yeah, so yer a genius, so what
smack down nail hard, sir
whistlin' thistlin'
Moqui
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I dont whistle dixie , i dont whistle anything...i'm whistling mentally challenged.Whever i try to whistle a spit bubble comes out, i guess i should swallow more.
This give that old south bluegrass sorta feel to it...finger lickin good without the grease
galfalfa
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yer one o them tree huggers aaintcha!? ... this poets genius is obvious, aint it?
... i told him ta stay away from contests i'm in 
... but he don't care none
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LOL, Danni , a tree hugger, thats me
Do you really think Ed's a genius? A genius is suppose to be at the edge of insanity...so dont tell him that, it might push him over the brink
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ssssshhhhhhh ..... o0!
sshhhhhh 
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This engages my poet's ear
I hold no sweet sentiment for Dixie but I am reverent about a well turned phrase. There are many here...
Tecohe
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This is very cool. I was raised since 12 in a very small town here in Kentucky, called 'Little Dixie'
Got ya on tonite Ed.
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Dr. Seuss wrote poems that made sense. This doesn't.
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How rude!
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what part of Montana are ya from? i got a small ranch in the eastern end...
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a wise man once said that
if the reader doesn't understand the poem- it is most likely not the poet's fault
it seems some semblance of pride would give you pause before announcing "i don't get it"
m
OBAMA 08
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Well dis heer lil woman is fresh outta holly hocks and me roots could use a 'blechen but I do believe my smock is always "open" as I am all 'bout that southern hospitality!!
. Rewarded 4
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Excellent
Ah, 'tis a nice write, indeed; even brought a smile to my face. You've expressed your thoughts quite well. Again, well done. -
I love this, deconstructed, rearranged, in-your-face and out of sight, fragmented to assemble a whole new view, and it's a view of Dixie in a curl of blue smoke in a fever dream.
I can see DuChamps' Nude Descending a Stairway in the top right corner of the image - maybe she's being allowed to walk up this time?
(wanders off, singing "if you'll be my dixie chicken, I'll be your tennesee lamb...)
. Rewarded 6
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I've got jolly hockey sticks
bamboo licks across the passage
of tracks of back to black
to wear for smaller, more informal deaths,
I am saving the wholeness of my end game
to end in a nonchalent khaki-glitter-arti-flak,
whistle dixie with liberty,
anyone about to splinter
in a thousand pieces of mass
is intuitive enough to feel
the molten larva and morass
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well, you learn something new everyday...
I never knew Dr. Seuss was a southerner!
I got lost for a while, Scott...somewhere
I made a wrong turn heading for the cave...
then, I saw this incredible light in the
distance (thought it was China for a second,
what a relief...it was your pipe burnin)...
i'm coming...don't go anywhere. L
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that ain't no rhetoric either
it is chewed up, spit out
truth
that's what that is- uh huh.
i love it.
m
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