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Style / Type: 
freeform


LONELY TRUDGE THROUGH EDEN

 

all not known i know little of

my mad dash has been tough.

this life has its own bank draft

no stock plan, no papered return

on investment.

love requires never ending give.

i’ll skip the oration on that,

as tonight’s trudge through eden

capitulates and energizes, nullifies, terrorizes,

my walk toward misplaced angles

on stroll where dawn never brings

deliverance.

rwc…

8/15/01

 

I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
5
Average: 5 (1 vote)
Submitted by weirdelf on 6 December 2007 - 3:43am.
weirdelf's picture

Wow, you are truly a crafter of words.

Although the word angles jars a bit. Not sure what you’re getting at there.
cheers,
Jess

Submitted by rwc88... on 6 December 2007 - 11:55am.

your comment

the word “angles” - as in we all got an angle - a side-door walk-in - a how-to so to speak.
a variation of speech commonly used in sales or managerial meetings with a goal such as plan B. mostly used by con men though. a word used as a means to state there’s a way of getting around something in the way. in this case the word was used as a means to silently define (or maybe remind me) that under and influenced with substance i was and the angle or angles are the many herbs, meds, jugs, bottles, etc. available to help the mind to release and rise!
thanks for the comment. have had to think a minute or 4. wrote that years ago i think. don’t remember for sure and i memorize nothing. i do date everything and leave it in since copying and pasting in as per your suggestions a while back. although in forthcoming book (manuscript i’m completing these days trying to meet deadline for spring release) i will leave the dates out unless i decide to write some sort of preface type note to reader concering each poem and then might take a stab at when i wrote or near abouts. do you comprendo my teXese language i speak with sometimes? of course i can talk real and correct and write that way also. but sometimes i choose to write like i talk. like this moring’s long ass poem i wrote concerning the kid in nebraska who shot a bunch of people in a shopping mall then himself. - 19 yrs. old. our american child.
peace,
wheel…