this is dead good .. one can literally feel how you put the whole of your heart n sole into its crafting .. but my word, those were the days, weren't they, my friend :)
Posted 1 Year Ago
1 Year Ago
thanks Nev. yes the choices were a time consuming stroll. wanted to capture a bit of Heaney (which I.. read morethanks Nev. yes the choices were a time consuming stroll. wanted to capture a bit of Heaney (which I feel i did)
Sounded like the offerings of a John Wayne movie, the Duke of westerns. Brilliantly composed with the slow saddling up, to the bending ache of Resurrection. A most intriguing read, Ken. Powerful and concise. Much enjoyed the ride!
Posted 1 Year Ago
1 Year Ago
thanks Kelly. i am really enjoying the various takes on this little poem. most, due to title and wes.. read morethanks Kelly. i am really enjoying the various takes on this little poem. most, due to title and western nativism, are going to the wild west image. which i admit influenced my choice of language, but the other genesis for the work was the natural language and style of irish poet Seamus Heaney who is one of my fav poets. the intent was not so much a hanging or even death as it was/is the realization of lost ambitions.
A quick draw could add a few more stanzas but it eventually all comes to an end, as we all ride off into the sunset
Don't thinks they used Chinese quality shovels on Boot Hill
You took me to Westerns. I used to watch them years ago. The condemned man, there always seemed to be a hanging. We all have to go, but how and the timing makes a hell of a difference. Hated the thought of the noose and strangulation. Have a good day Ken.
Well, a cold, drop box denouement was never what I looked forward to, either. Of course, no one else on Boot Hill had that expectation. But it comes to us all, whatever our literary success. Ask Shakespeare. Ask T.S. Eliot.
And as the poets ride off into the sunset, the others arise in the morning wondering where everyone went. the end is never as we expect it because the end is not something I think any of us expect. Th good guys don't always win in the end and there are very few silver bullets handed out anymore. Makes you wonder sometimes if that wooden makeshift cross isn't the better alternative. Your pom, your poet my friend, needs to stick around even after the new sheriff arrives