Sunday, April 04, 2010

PAD 04/04/10

Poem a Day challenge, day 4.  Prompt:  history poem


then finally you will get to Devils Tower
it should be warm by then
a hint of breeze blowing
through the prayer bundles
tied on limbs of trees
the Evil Wizard will not follow you there
remember the story of the man who was
magically transported to the top
I pray this happens
it would give you strength
and if it does make note of
the buffalo head
that Wooden Leg talked about
you will have to pray all day
so that when you go to sleep
the spirits will carry you down
I cannot come to you
confounded as I am by fear
of things I have done
comforted only by this moon
the only clean thing left

1 comment:

marigolds2 said...

Well, really, this is amazing. Are these posts part of a story? I want to hear it all.



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Northwest Ohio, United States
"I was no better than dust, yet you cannot replace me. . . Take the soft dust in your hand--does it stir: does it sing? Has it lips and a heart? Does it open its eyes to the sun? Does it run, does it dream, does it burn with a secret, or tremble In terror of death? Or ache with tremendous decisions?. . ." --Conrad Aiken


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Fave Painting: Eden

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Fave Painting: The Three Ages of Man and Death

Fave Painting:  The Three Ages of Man and Death
by Albrecht Dürer

From the First Chapter

The Secret of Hurricanes : That article in the Waterville Scout said it was Shake- spearean, all that fatalism that guides the Kennedys' lives. The likelihood of untimely death. Recently, another one died in his prime, John-John in an airplane. Not long before that, Bobby's boy. While playing football at high speeds on snow skis. Those Kennedys take some crazy chances. I prefer my own easy ways. Which isn't to say my life hasn't been Shake-spearean. By the time I was sixteen, my life was like the darkened stage at the end of Hamlet or Macbeth. All littered with corpses and treachery.

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