In the End
In the end they'll all be dancin',
all them ones that didn't die.
Sure, they'll take some time for glancin' at the fires in the sky.
They might even stop to wonder what it was that kept them free
From the lightning and the thunder...
and all that nucular debris.
Oh, they won't find any answers.
They'll just shrug and shake their heads.
'Cause all them happy dancers?
they're just dreamin' they ain't dead.
Hello Debra. Thanks for signing in at The Porch. You'll find a welcome waiting for you over there. I just signed up here, too. Poet I ain't, but I like to pay my dues and I'll comment when I can. Tell you something though - that's a powerful 'About Me' you have there. Strikes a chord, too. That's pretty much where my mind goes when I'm on The Porch. Reckon that makes me a dreamer, too.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the kind welcome. I have to say you're wrong about something, though. You are a poet. Just as history is written by the victors, poetry that survives the ages is decided by the academics--but the truest poetry comes from the hearts of the most humble amongst us, the very folks who either don't seek acclaim, don't shout loud enough to receive it, or are ignored for their droll use of common terms. Keep writing, kind sir.
ReplyDeleteHmmm..,I misspoke. I've seen a fair share of common terms in academic poetry, so I can't blame lack of acclaim on that. It's more attributable to lack of what might be considered appropriate credentials.
ReplyDeleteYou've got a fine way with words, Debra. Scary thing is, I think I understand most of them. Feels like you just looked into my soul. Yup, you've got a fine way with words. Glad to know you, Pard.
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