A few years back I walked a burn
the kind foresters call "controlled".
It cleared the woods of brush and fern
leaving the woods' floor bare and bold.
Most of the ground was blushing red
(from being clay, or being bare?)
all undergrowth unburnt was dead
no sign of deer, wild hog or hare.
Along a ridge where quartz lay white
I chanced to spot a stone spear head
but what really caught my sight
this point was gray as weathered lead.
For this point was made of slate
where there is no slate around
and this set me to deliberate
as I surveyed white quartz filled ground.
It was of the type called "Clovis"
defined by its shape and style.
I drew my breath with a deep hiss
for they'd been gone a Long, Long while.
Long before the Cherokee
ever roamed a hill or hollow
the Clovis lived then.....ceased to be
allowing later tribes to follow.
Well beyond how many? thousand years
and in some far and lonely glade
when mammoth roamed instead of deer
this point came here perhaps by trade.
We pride ourselves on things that last
our dams, statues and asphalt roads
our buildings and bridges, concrete cast
porcelain sinks even commodes.
But this little stone spear head
has lasted through all history's pages.
When We are all forgotten and dead
what will we leave that lasts such ages?
Comments
One of your best poems ever
Deep, thoughtful and meaningful.
Well done, sir.
Hellooo Jess
Good to see you out and about. Here I'd let this one set around for months thinking it wasn't up to snuff. Shows what kind of judge I am on my own work lol. Thanks for coming by and don't call me sir.......stan
would you prefer dickhead or cuntface?
no, Aussies almost never say 'sir', it is a mark of real respect.
lol
I still ain't used to being called sir just owing to my getting old (against which I rage). Plus I'm still immersed in a battle with myself over whether I'm a real poet or just pretend. Perhaps if I'd written most of my life it would be different. So when you see my making jest of a compliment it's due to insecurity, not blowing off the compliment.......stan
You are a poet, a good one
and you know I never bullshit, unless the bullshit is for fun.
Ah
So it's OK for you to have fun but when I have fun at my own expense it's not? Well i guess I'll learn some day to just say thank you then shut up lol. *take note the "lol" which indicates a modicum of humor . Anthow it's good you're back so we'll each have somebody to snipe at...........stan PS I'm still waiting to hear back from AC concerning having somewhere to go where general members can review the rules which will apply to all contests.
Dear Sir,
thank you for your request. As you are aware the AC is a very busy department and your request will be given the highest priority. Please be patient as the volume of work is considerable however we should be able to meet your needs within the foreseeable future. If you can see the future,
respectfully,
Neopoet AC
[grins]
It would help if you gave us your own outline.
i wish
I could foresee the future lol. I'd be so rich that Neo wouldn't have any more funding concerns. The contest general rules have just been sent via PM.
Hi Stan
Another great poem! and you make a valid point - "what will we leave that lasts such ages"?
I like the details in this poem and of course the rhyming was great! Can't see anything to crit - so it's a thumbs up from me. :)
Love Mand xxxx
Madame Mandy
Thank you. I can always count on you to give encouragement. ...........stan
nice poem
and i enjoyed the idea of the poem. finding a fossil, a spearhead, from ages past, (or even a Grecian Urn!) are great subjects for a poem.
My critical brain would not allow me to totally accept the finish. I think a lot of the items you mentioned will last quite a few millennia- the statues (remember Planet of the Apes?) , our steel and porcelains I think will last. It has been said that stored properly our records (lp's) will last for ever. The microbes don't eat that stuff, and they also don't eat Hostess Twinkies, which have a shelf life of thousands of years.
I get more caught up in the awe of finding arrowheads, fossils, or seeing an insect trapped in tree sap at the museum- millions of years old. I think that should be the focus of the poem rather than considering what the future will find in us.One thing for sure, if they find my skull the supper amazing new choppers I have implanted in my jaws should be of some interest.
hello my friend
Yeah, I guess we'll be remembered for our porcelain toilets lol. as to things made of steel, they will rust away. appreciate your visit........stan