Caught between a rainbow
and a crowbar,
I touch a dead poet’s electricity
and find myself crawling from a ditch
of opium dreams.
Oh I don’t want to go where everything
outside my window is warmed
by a splintered sun
and where the lonely leaves
never change colour.
No, I’d rather stay inside this barricade
among the ghosts of my past,
I’d rather dissect the images
of spiritually stranded wordsmiths
than devote my remaining days
to the obnoxious whore
that murders children and grandparents
on a daily basis.
Another election falls into our lives
like a forest of plastic trees,
the dancers, though uninhibited,
have loosened their turgid limbs
with alcohol and the indigestion
of newspaper headlines.
And when the hollow shells
echo with political sloganeering,
the scientific excuse of inequity
marries itself to sheep
chained to ancestral fence posts.
Thus, I blend my song with the birds of the sky,
I seek albatross,
images of William Blake in a New York window,
an Asian sage tickling a centipede’s navel
and the holy words carved
into the bark of an ancient tree standing
at the side of the bohemian highway.
A contest entry
- Become a Favourite! by BabyBun.
400 points, ended November 3, 2008, 47 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - CELEBRATING POETRY AND POETS- ONE-DAY competition, "PREVIOUSLY WRITTEN" WORK ONLY by Vera Rich.
6000 points, ended November 26, 2008, 127 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Seashells by KevinDunn.
550 points, ended December 2, 2008, 35 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Not All Beauty is Colorful by XxAmongtheBrokenxX.
430 points, ended March 2, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 28 of 28
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This poem is quite thought provoking and interesting to say the least. The imagery you have used here is wonderful and amazing. This was very much deserving of the gold trophy. Nice write! Blessings, Patty
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a certifiable celebration of word thumbing its way across the mind . true beat marc. Kudos! The title alone deserves gold.
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This is an evocative piece - but I have to say that a) as a rule, I prefer short titles (could you not have found something snappier?) and
to me, Bohemian Highway suggests a motorway in or leading to the Czech Republic!
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Thank you for entering my "Celebrating poets and poetry" competition, with something thematically right on target. I shall be returning to this poem later, when I do my full judging - at present I am simply pre-sorting into "probable", "possible" and "alas, impossible".
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Fantastic! I love it! I get it!
I really enjoy the ride of your poem! I like the words you married together! I want to keep this one so to return to its thoughts. I can see it all easily in my mind.
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Excellent imagery
Here we all sit with you -
"images of William Blake in a New York window,
an Asian sage tickling a centipede’s navel "
and wonder why and how we can grasp that rainbow for dear life.
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"images of William Blake in a New York window"
refers to Allen Ginsberg who saw the face of Moloch and heard Blake's voice speaking to him in a vision . . .
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Hmmmm...a curious piece, it does perhaps bend some songs to the birds of the sky, unihibited dancers, and ancestral fence posts, some very interesting images here...
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thought provoking
very well written, it makes me think about the world around me, the flow and the use of some images and words you might not expect in a political piece really brings it to life and gets the reader thinking, i very much enjoyed this
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"I touch a dead poets electricity" I hear the pulse too and it shines without neon flashing signs promising the earth at a cost that we can't afford not to pay.
Keep standing on the right side of the Bohemian Highway my friend!
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Your works seems so reflective lately. And deeply so.
"an Asian sage tickling a centipede’s navel "
what an image that brought to mind. lol.
We had the lowest turn out yet for voting, seems like people have become ... ? ... what's the word I'm looking for, not complacent, but duller than that. ?
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absolutely stellar Marc
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I grew up in a "political home" - both my parents were/are in politics on local, provincial and national level and when i was at university i toyed with the idea of becoming more involved in politics too. but i've had enough.. my politics is the lives of children, animal, nature, poetry and i totally agree with you, Marc... i would rather read and learn and be sensitive than acquiring a "thick skin". Politics in South Africa at the moment is a circus and it's such a shame.... thank you for these "holy words", my friend - so true, so very beautifully delivered.
~ Nicolette
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I like this - it works on so many levels - the more I read it the more it seems to mean. "Images of William Blake in a New York window" is a stunning line. Bravo!
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wow. The imagery in this is outstanding! It took me awhile, and a few times re reading, to actually fall in love with this piece. I am also planning on reading this to my husband. Thankyou for sharing!
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I love it! The insanity and agitation of politics at it's most inglorious. The mudslinging, promises, throat cutting and deals under the table. I bit surreal, Alice In Wonderland. Spot on!
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Damn Marc, the political centrepiece of this is 'are any of them worthy to rule because they think they can care for the people' instead of 'i am worthy because I know i am'
Keep shouting my friend. C
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Oh you know I can`t keep my mouth shout Cheryl . . . I just hope that your voice is never going to retire away from the bonfire of the freedom fighters . . . Ah, what the hell am I saying, that would be impossible wouldn`t it . . .
Marc -
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Absolutely impossible LOL...this little rebel got too much fire to stay quiet 
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Amen sister . . . amen . . .
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Ahhhhh,
You stand tall among the poets I toasted earlier.
I begin to think like Vonnegut, that wanting to be president is a clear signal that one is not suitable for the task.
Now, I want to carve poems on trees, next to cricks.
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There ya go . . . be a modern day Wisconsin Han Shan and enscribe your words carefully into the bark . . . At least while you are doing so, you will have the liquid music of the mountains flowing quietly by . . . This poem came about after reading your Sam piece and the notes you left re a couple of my recent postings . . . thus, it came as a direct result of your correspondance . . . I was gonna dedicate it to you, but I thought what the hell . . . its gonna be in a forthcoming volume, hopefully sometimes next year . . . haven`t found a title for it yet, but know that the book is gonna be dedicated to you Ganson . . . I`ll send you a rough draft when I sorta get it in order . . .
Marc
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Superb
Aye, 'tis a fine write, indeed. You always express yourself quite well. Thanks for sharing this one with us.
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Beautiful well worth reading I love it!!
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This really is worth reading. I enjoyed that, thank you
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Such wonderful images here, kaleidoscopic and mesmerizing from the juxtapositioning of rainbow and crowbar, sheep and albatross, to the holy words in the tree at the side of the bohemian highway. Oh, the song of the road pulls, and the comfort of inside tugs back, and in that tension the poem is born and the poet must be, to aid the birth.
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Terrific Aries
The thing is to get the 'right' "Shepherd" to lead
those darn sheep,love the Sage tickling the centipede's
navel.Hollow shells echo political sloganeering etc.
love it I love I am jealous you could put what I am
thinking in such succinct,delightful poetry
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I loved the imagery in this. It was unique and fit amazingly. Wish I could write something this creative and still weave meaning behind it like you have mastered here.
Amazing.
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