at last, summer is over, the cooler (darn almost cold) nights are bringing back the rains. Work continues, ever changing with the new (and still poorly functioning) software from the Gods of Memphis. Oh well, i am considering (not certain how seriously at this point) in bidding out of shipping and trying my hand at something else in the mill, as it getting really frustrating and difficult to deal with the mess this software has created and as in all walks of life, they just continue to pile on new features and jobs that we don't really have the time or extra personnel to deal with. Ain't life a cher o' bowlies?
anyway, worked on a new poem this morning, really! a new poem! first one in maybe 8 or 9 years. Is it the start of me returning to writing? Not certain and not likely. Just was listening to some Bo Ramsey music, and this poem started in the back of my head.
THIS POEM BEGINS WITH A BO RAMSEY RIFT (1st draft)
(10-7-2011)
Bo Ramsey tells me
my dreams are so fragile
Paul Stookey tells me
to tell it on the mountain
while Dylan informs me
i ain’t goin’ nowhere
what to do?
all my prophets old & dying
sending conflicting messages -
just like politicians
in an election year
it is October finally
& the returning rains
offer little comfort
the sweat of labor
has again lost its magic luster
older now & my bones ache
i question the dreams of my youth
the passions used, abused
& lost
& i wonder if anything was really
worth the prices paid
still, when the alarm rings
i find it a necessity to put on
those worn work boots
that in itself
i suppose
is an answer for now
