Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Long trip in a short boat

I knew when I launched -
my Canoe -
Into the river of her -
Whitewater eyes -
That I was in for a troubling
Ride -
And wouldn't be back -
For Days.

15 Comments:

Blogger Glenn Buttkus said...

Alright smartass, after I professed my admiration for your poetic meanderings, and admitted it was good stuff--but didn't want it to outshine my own poem, SENTINEL--here you are posting it for the world to peruse and read right here on FFTL.

So, hey, what's a 1/8th Cherokee lad to do? I posted it ASAP on FFTR.

I like it for several reasons. For one thing it is always a joy when you write any kind of poetry, or poetic prose, which can be morphed into poetry. And I like your ambiguity and sneaky symbolism. Is this a love poem? Are we talking about Emily, or your first "ride" sexually, your motorcycle? What is your "Canoe"? What is her "river"?

All this from a few hurried lines scribbled down by you one moment in time. Poetry is fun, enit?

Glenn

5:37 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hallo, Lane!
Where was this trip -- or is it in your poetic imagination ??
Tschüß,
Anonomann & LL
P.S. Talvi has an excellent new blog in his site "www.schmaltzuberalles.blogspot.com". Jeremy still has nothing since "Schubertt".

1:54 AM  
Blogger Lane Savant said...

I never had an experience like that with any woman not even Meighan.
(well, maybe Ellen)
So it must be symbolic of something or other than a intersexual journey.
Maybe I'll do a Freudian analysis of it one of these days.
F'r instance the canoe is longer than it is wide so it could represent the penis yet at the same time it is something you climb into so it is also a vagina, it has that shape.
The river is a dynamic symbol of an uncontrollable life force go there and you take your chances.
Her eyes symbolizing the promises that the future holds.
It's probably just an account of my aborted and idiotic attempt at being somebody through music and my
screwball relation to the Scumsucking garbage Seattle Symphony Orchestra.

10:03 AM  
Blogger Glenn Buttkus said...

Ah-Hah!! The explication was afoot as Sherlock used to say. I knew it! The poem was fraught with sexual and artiistic symbolism. One things when they are "artistic" in nature, that they can get away with scribbling some lines down, and posting them--but nooooo, the symbols and deeper meanings find a way to be included.

Glenn

3:20 PM  
Blogger Glenn Buttkus said...

That, of course would be, or woodbe, "think" and not "things", enit.

3:21 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

You better have written this poem about me, lover boy--or there will be hell to pay.


......Emily

3:23 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Piss poor poetry, sir. You need more blood and gore, for sure.

......Eddie Allen Poo

3:24 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I dug the poem, dude. It seems to bring out your deeper and more sensitive side.


.....Eddy Emerald

3:26 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I have no goddamned idea what in hell this poem is talking about; it is doublespeak and nonsense.

....General George Patton

3:27 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Actually, you might be able to publish your poetry, and make your reputation as a poet; rather than banging your head bloody on Music's door.

........Bobby Dylan

3:29 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Would have been more romantic to mention fried banana and peanut butter sandwiches.


.............E.Presley

3:30 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I am not sure, but I sense some Communist propaganda within the lines of this poem. I will recommend that you be watched, young man.


.......J. Edgar Hooover

PS: Do you take a dare?

3:32 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

You always were a Commie sympathizer. That's why you such a poor small business owner; afraid of work, rather have Uncle Sam take care of your sorry ass.

......Sgt. Rock

3:34 PM  
Blogger Lane Savant said...

Actually its more a description of my short fast trip with the Sleazeball Symphony Orchestra than anything else

And, Hey Patton, you used to run around in your silly looking halloween costume "uniform" and your ridiculous silver plated pistols by your side.
Hi Yo closet queen.
You're just as much of a chickenshit faggot as Little Dougie Macarthur.

Did you ever get within ten miles of a front line?
Did you ever get mud on your sweet little booties?
Or any blood but you got shaving?

5:46 PM  
Blogger Lane Savant said...

Oh, yeah, Emily, you spent your life having imaginary relationships with men, so, lets face it, I'm just another one of yours and you're just another one of mine.

5:48 PM  

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