Town and Country blues Edit 1.00000001 wjames, river, dale,nikki

[just mercedes]

You shipped me out, beneath this foreign sky; There are two different 'you's in your poem it seems - the government, and a woman. It's a little confusing.
with bleeding eyes I look through fret and try I'm puzzled by 'look through fret'
and try to see what you see here. Who is this 'you'?
The sodden ground that yields like gangrened flesh great imagery!
sticks glutinously to my every stride
so that my very walk becomes a strain.
Down comes more rain.

There are no lights once diamond days have died;
the beast of black depression says you lied, Who is this 'you'?
then slumps like mortar on my heart.
You promised me the scents and sounds of bliss,
where we would roll and wrap ourselves in lust 'We' must be you and I, so who is the 'you'?
and suck the soft green grass on which we’d lain. lovely
Down comes more rain.

I want the noise, the blaze and blare of life,
to bump and bruise within the common strife; not sure about 'common strife'
for what is silence if not death?
Speak loud and scream if that is what you feel.
Hit hard and low and blame me for it all;
the truth of what we have is loving pain.
Down comes more rain.



I have the image of a soldier in Vietnam, for some reason, in the paddies. I'm confused at just who he's angry at/with - his government or his girl? I think the repetend or refrain is very effective - also affective.

tectak
2016  

Original

You shipped me out, beneath this foreign sky;
with bleeding eyes I look through fret and try
and try to see what you see here.
The sodden ground that yields like gangrened flesh
-- it stinks of ungulates and all they drop--
sticks glutinously to my every stride
so that my very walk becomes a strain.
Down comes more rain.

There are no lights once diamond days have died;
the beast of black depression says you lied,
then sits like stone upon my heart.
You promised me the scents and sounds of bliss,
where we would roll and wrap ourselves in lust
and suck the soft green grass on which we’d lain.
Down comes more rain.

I want the noise, the blaze and blare of life,
to bump and bruise within the common strife;
but what is silence if not death?
Speak loud and scream if that is what you feel.
Hit hard and low and blame me for it all;
the truth of what we have is loving pain.
Down comes more rain.

tectak
2016