CCfire
CCfire
Apr 19, 2011

like jack, he said the road had a beat

he said someday he'd go south,
away from the gaunt faces of
the men and women in his town,
all the young pretty ones
worn out and obese
by the time they turned
twenty five

far beyond the
whining relatives,
whose crops had failed,
the weather too hot
or too wet for success

i remembered him talking;
how the desert had been on fire,
when he was broke,
sleeping in town squares,
picking cotton for a buck a day,
the parrot who spoke
in broken cherokee,
the bird swore in Chinese

his morals had deserted
between Kentucky and the Kansas plains

the drunken shambles he'd been in,
completely missing the Great Smoky Mountains,
finding a slim hipped Mexican
who blurred his lips
in spanish words and
screwed him until defenseless

this madness bloomed
like a weird hybrid flower,
repeating the same statement
to himself

'consider his soul,
stop, listen
consider-'

he stood alone
in the dark, bleak street,
pondering the railroad line
planning his further
inconveniences

even the beggar
had no hope
of ever changing his mind

one day
there will be tears
or rain

or both

About This Poem

Style/Type: Free verse

Review Request Direction: What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
[This option has been removed]

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: Melbourne, Australia, AUS

Favorite Poets: Bukowski

More from this author

Comments

Eduardo Cruz

Great story.
Those that pound the road, always live to there own beat.
I like your use of places in the states, a real road warrior like me can see these pictures.
Eddie C.

Eduardo Cruz

there's a book I'd like you to read;
"Veronika decides to die" by Paulo Cuelho
A story of redemption which is so good
with a good twist to it>
Eddie C.

CCfire

I've read that one by Cuelho, it is a good book and he's one of my favorite authors. I am a bookhound so I've been reading all my life, in fact I read the Godfather by Puzo at age 10 and floored my 6th grade library teacher by asking her I had trouble understanding what 'cunnilingus' meant lol..Needless to say my mother got called to the office once again to 'please explain' :P

Eduardo Cruz

i love to read, I am glad to find someone who love it too.
Yes that is a great book, Wanted to share it with you, but this is better.

CCfire

has always been a favorite and I re-read his On The Road when I was in the USA last year and then met some people who just made me think of him and how he would have loved these young ones outlook on somethings. It inspired me to write this. Thanks xx

S

we think we have a map for life's journey, but then find ourselves lost. The lucky among us have a partner to point the direction and the unlucky never find their way. Long winded way to say i like this poem ain't it? lol..............scribbler

M

... of Bukowski and Lane A Smith, and that is despite the differences. I don't know whether that is good or bad.

There are times when I really appreciate the way your poetry peters out at the end, as though we are looking towards the haze of a horizon where perspective makes the road seem narrower and narrower.

M

Nordic cloud

This is good Chez,

"this madness bloomed
like a weird hybrid flower,
repeating the same statement
to himself"...and this verse sums it up in such a surrealistic manner, wonderful.
No they never will change. I read a book 'hundreds of years ago' The Beloved Vagabond, and fell in love with such a life, would have liked to be a roaming Gypsy and have a coloured caravan and a horse to pull it. Not much for the norms of "society" myself, a rebel, but being brought up by a father from the Victorian era of Britain!!!!Some of THAT rubs off on me I suppose and governs a smaller part of my life unawares.

I enjoyed your poem Chez,
Love Ann of Norway.

P.S. Wouldn't so much like to be a tramp in this country its too cold in Winter!!!!
I have however a big collection of photographs of tramps hideouts in the forests etc, fascinating, their toothbrushes stuck in the pine tree, the rusty pots and pans under the rock overhang to catch the rain water etc.