Endless

Endless

A Poem by Perdition

I am in a web of country

counting surrogates

the crows and old ghosts circling above 

a rust of antenna like model airplanes or

forgotten songs


Your fragrant stone points me to the northern star

but still I am waiting old friend


The bones from my knees are graced to the hollows

the nights have laid trembling

and I am far too far beyond repair


too late to stay and dance in the fog light

too soon to leave before our song


I dream that this all comes back around

turns with a casual shake or wink

a simple yowl slit into variations

the cold slab opens from a wish that carries me


This all through slow evolution 

this all that slivers me into a deeper country where

they call out my name and I follow my burdens too light to see

down to sleep then wake again 

in the backseat of an old blue cutlass

staring down an endless Texas road.

© 2019 Perdition


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I'm feeling a deep deep yearning for the youth days, the yearning that haunts and controls every emotion and emotional sense You have, tugs You inside Your heart repeatedly again and again, leaves You with tears. You are stuck now, in this life, this situation, this trail You are facing now, but somehow You are free in Your memories, free to dream on them and fly away with and into them. an emotional write for me Mr. Joe.

Posted 4 Months Ago


I'm reading several books about writing & one of them advises to pick rare images that convey a ton of information about a scene, character or story, but without having to spell it all out in words. This is the way you use imagery, just like the "experts" recommend! Love the "cutlass staring down an endless Texas road" -- such imagery is endless, as far as showing a fulsome story . . . *smile* Fondly, Margie

Posted 4 Months Ago


This is like a hallucigenic dream, carrying our burdens into an unknown world, crisscrossing their worries with our own. I need my black coffee now.

Posted 4 Months Ago


Perdition

4 Months Ago

Hallucinogenic dream? Isn't that kinda redundant? Like a dry sand dune getting wet and soaking up th.. read more
I spend many an hour in a cutlass...Most comfortable car we ever owned...dreams were formed there lying on the backseat...bare feet on the window enduring the hot southern sun with cool air conditioning and velveteen...watching the clouds and the trees....thinking about summer adventures and friends....Ill be back for more after Ive turned and twisted and fussed and fidgeted a bit:P

Posted 4 Months Ago


Perdition

4 Months Ago

Okay ..so is this poem really about the Cutlass? ..haha..probably..maybe, but whatever gets you ther.. read more
this reminds me of reuniting with my oldest friend and the two of us often taking a trip down that memory lane...
not in the blue cutlass, but a 65 Chevy Impala...and nights behind the A&P waiting for the bakery truck and our box of donuts...as we talked for hours.
Sometimes i would like to be able to go back there...just for a short trip.
so Nostalgic here...
really nice write.
j.

Posted 4 Months Ago


Perdition

4 Months Ago

For me it was a '66 Mustang and the Safeway or Grand Unions rather than A&P but we had an old Cutlas.. read more

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5 Reviews
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Added on May 21, 2019
Last Updated on May 21, 2019

Author

Perdition
Perdition

Sometimes, VA



About
Writing is a way for me to transcend the edges around the edges of transcendence; if you catch my drift. Thank you for your wonderful reviews and please forgive me if I sometimes fail to do the same... more..

Writing

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