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What the log book doesn't show (Free verse) by INTRANSIT It cannot show how my hydraulic
pump pushes red corpuscles scattering
into the industrial sunrise of memory.
This flat lined E.K.G. of time
with no ink marks , blue or red, cannot show
how long to build transparent links.
It cannot show identical surf
wagons chasing the other way,
or gimcrack gifts at every stop.
Or how I reach for the hill
on the horizon, my hand doing a slow
octopus crawl over its peaked crest.
It doesn't show how much fuel
I burn thinking about-- how quickly
I go bankrupt at the cost.
It shows when I'm in Freehold
New Jersey, or Chambers, Texas
but not what state I'm in.
It won't show the mouse tear that
eeks out at the corner, runs across
and hides in the ear.
If this record showed accurately
what is between these lines it would
show me half full, half empty.
Up the ladder:
Jack and Jill
Down the ladder:
A Woman on a Bench Downtown
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 8.0
Posted: July 3, 2007 8:15 AM PDT; Last modified: July 3, 2007 8:15 AM PDTWeighted score: 5.806824 Overall Rank: 1671 Comments:
that's poetry - brilliant
Great stuff. I love stanzas 4 and 6. Keep up the good work--this site needs it.
I does not show the bicyclist you went clear over to the other shoulder to pass, knowing that your wind gust might knock her off balance if you passed too close, and her sigh of relief. Was that you?
Stanza 6 is great - I love a judiciously used pun. I think the last stanza also sums the whole up very poignantly. I'm afraid I don't know what an EKG is, so I'm not sure if I entirely get stanza 2, though the meaning is clear, but generally I think this is one of the best things I've read on this site.
Thanks Christof. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that rewrites are totally worth the effort.
Dovina ? Is there something that needs improvement ?
Only if you don't know the following or don't care:
When you're driving a semi on a two-lane road at 65 mph in Kansas, and a sidewind is pressing on your left side, and you're overtaking a cyclist, and the grass alongside the road is tall, you will see the future in your right mirror. Even if you see nothing because there's no grass, the cyclist will bow her head, finger the breaks and prepare for a blast of wind on her back. It makes her wobble and sets the scene for suction that follows immediatly and can pull her under your trailer. Some truck drivers know this and care. They pass as far to the left as possible, and if traffic does not allow this, they slow down. Others either don't know or don't care.
*Sniff sniff* I smell a metaphore. In case it is not: I used to bicycle in my younger days and now I motorcycle. I am well aware of folks getting splashed with invisible tide. I do what I can to lessen the effect. I'm sorry you may have had a bad experience. I like the wheatfields. I like the sunflowers. I need a hug.
I'd hug a truck driver who swings wide around me, but they're hard to catch. Have you seen the wheat piled on the ground because the elevators are full? It's a bumper crop in western Kansas, and a soggy failure in east Kansas. Lots of smiles around Tribune, sunflowers too.
Very good poem. Top of the scale. Worth all the rereads. And so forth.
Thank you.
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s2 is a bit confusing: flatlines EKG, but no ink marks. and transparent links (as in weblinks)...?
i do like the analogies between your own vessel and that of an automobile. i am guessing the "logbook" is the recordings of a GPS device, and that someone rather upset/ill is driving around concerend for their well being.
dunno. i like the images and am intrigued by the "story".