A bend in the road
For a bank account
And late with my rent
Because of a bird chirping
I lost what was left
Of the little I had
In the evening rain
Yet on
We drove
In open
Rebellion
With designs
On sublimity
*I released a version of this in February. I trimmed it a little. Gave it some direction. And a better title (hopefully).
Those darned birds. Always chirping when you must important things.
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Haha! I didn’t take much when I was young to be distracted.
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I know. I was chronically distracted.
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I love how your attention was drawn away from the irksome demands of getting by — eloquently described in that ‘On The Road’ vibe —
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Thanks John. I guess that’s the great part of being young, not much sticks to you yet.
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yes, I was young once — I think I just remember that
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Haha! Me too, John. It’s good to look back once in while and remember those days.
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Love this, Bob. I didnt see the original but this is concise, beautifully expressed and so jam packed with mind expanding imagery.
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Thank you! It’s good to be reminded of those days when we were young.
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designs on sublimity…oh yes, youth was that…and then life happens….
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Life did sure happen. It’s good to look back once in a while and remember those days.
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Really enjoyed reading your poem. Thank you, Bob.
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Thank you Michele! Glad you enjoyed it.
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A keen description of being young — ah, that open road, rebellion, and big dreams. Good to be reminded of that energy, as it can shake us and maybe inspire us look around and check to see if we’re stuck in ruts.
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Thanks Dave. I agree. It was fun being young. And when we can be inspired by it now. Like you said, shake us and inspire us.
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And such wonderful designs to have. … And to keep as long as possible. … I loved reading this., ..💫
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Thank you!! Being young was fun. And when we can, still is.
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Nice trimmings. I always love that word as in all the trimmings which on Thanksgiving means mashed potatoes and stuffing and eating until I pass out, but this poem, so resilient and that youthful leaning for more, for always more and few young ones, unless they happen to be hard core bible freaks, few of them have answers, instead, preferring sublimity or what that poet once said, something like “beauty is truth and truth is beauty and that’s all we need to know.”
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Yea, trimmings is a great word. And makes me think of Thanksgiving and eating too much. Being young was all about the next adventure. Even if it meant being late with the rent. I love the Keat’s quote. And that makes me think of the Pavement lyric, you gotta pay your dues before you pay the rent. Here’s to the next adventure!
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Ah….Pavement. I’ll look for that lyric and listen to the song. Found it – Range Life. Thanks.
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I think we’ve talked about that song before. Great song!
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Oh shight, my memory has begun to fail me which on the one hand is a sign of decay, but on the other hand it allows me to love a new song again for the first time!
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My memory is the worst. But it keeps me living in the moment.
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Funny how weed enhances my memory, funny because experts say it messes with memory. Maybe they mean long term? Anyway, on weed, I have to admit, it’s sometimes hard to stay on topic as the thought branches become other branches and the original point is lost like getting lost on one of those detours and it taking forever to get back on track.
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Weed is funny that way. Kinda kills short term memory, but connects you to all kinds of long term memories and kinda glides you things you thought you’ve forgotten.
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Well put Bob and what great medicine. I don’t think I could live without THC or at least I wouldn’t want to try.
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I enjoyed the poem, especially the idea of the open rebellion of youth–a nice reminder of youthful spirit.
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Thanks Diana. It’s good to look back once in a while and remember those young days.
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I’m sure your landlord would forgive your lateness if you explained about the bird.You might have to exaggerate a bit though–make a mourning dove cooing in the bird bath an eagle swooping to snatch your baby. Something alarming like that.
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Haha! I think you’re right. A little exaggerating to the landlord never hurt no one.
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I love this poem! It brings back memories of “open rebellion”. Good times, indeed.
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Thank you!
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