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

[Achebe]

It can't be a poem about a man/woman who's generally mad because her partner moved to the boondocks, otherwise he/she's just being shrill. This is an avoidable mystery.

You shipped me out, beneath this foreign sky;...could be a soldier, could be an oil sands miner working in Alberta!
with bleeding eyes I look through fret and try ...didn't get 'look through fret'.
and try to see what you see here.
The sodden ground that yields like gangrened flesh ...nice image
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; ...I am now thinking 'failed prospector in Alaska'
the beast of black depression says you lied,
then slumps like mortar on my heart.
You promised me the scents and sounds of bliss, ...I am now thinking 'failed prospector's wife or girlfriend'
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;...cliched rhyme
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.

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