Edit 1 Thoughts during a homeward crawl in Longtown

[tectak]

Rain on me while I walk back home
on humped and coggly cobbled streets normally I would say you don't need coggly, but it's cute, in an arrrrghh matey kinda way
until I breathe a rhythm rare,
a funeral march, a half-step here, when I was young I used to hum the funeral march all the time until my mother beat me half dead with a ladle
a long step there.

Blow wind, that smells of fat brown trout Fish smells, eugh. I'm not sure if I'm understanding this stanza as well as I should. Because I'm picturing fish and alcohol in the same breadth but I would never want to entertain the thought otherwise.
from river water risen high;
enough to drown me where I stand.
I make the voice inside me scream,
“Lord, show me land”Hey, maybe an exclamation point is in order?

Dark smoke swirls choking from high lums
that spume out sprites like demon’s eyes. I love these tiny alliterations
I burst into a fuming pyre
from just one spark upon my breath
that catches fire.
Who moves there in the midden depths?
I see your shining blade…for me?
Come then, engage me, let us fight!
I warn you I shall suck your eyes
and steal your sight.

And then the dampness enters in
to chill the thoughts that comfort me
until I dream in to my ben
where blood is gold, and whisky ink Something about these last three lines do not flow as well as the rest of the poem. I want to replace "and whisky ink" to "of whisky ink," but it's also not me poem.
to fill my pen.

Tectak
1995

Something about the beginning of this poem prompted me to read it like a Dr. Seuss book. And then it quickly switched over to pirate-speak.

What I like about this poem the most is that it's the first one I stopped to read in a long while, and enjoyed recycling through the lines as opposed to being pained by them. Your metaphors are both subtle and apparent. But mostly I think I just liked reading it with a silly accent.

Hi news,
you always encourage me to write for the reader...and that is refreshing if not always easy
This genre of muddled musing has always fascinated me...writing down marijuana masterpieces only to find that dawn brings dawning used to be frustrating but from it I hope I learned to distill my acetylcholine!
Open mouthed kiss for your comments...what IS that accent!
Best,
tectak