I rode the American experience
from sunset to sunrise
across the Lincoln Highway.
Spent forty six years
in the footsteps of Coronado,
Lewis, Caulfield and Moriarty;
chasing ghosts both real
and imagined. I’ve been
down in Denver, slept under
mountain stars with only
my doubts as company
and loved many a girl
long before I learned
to love myself.
I watched the naked cowboy
playing the guitar in Times Square
and it may as well have
been Darth Vader fiddling
while Alderon burned.
His neon tan blazed against
a backdrop of taxi cabs,
broken hearts, barkers
and the scream of 10 million souls
on the verge of falling silent forever.
As I stand now in the night air
of the city and watch my life go by
on the ticker at one Times Square,
I long for the simplicity of home
and hope that I can find my way.
SMG
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12 comments:
That was a rush. As I read it, I could hear the beat— jazzy, syncopated, and when I read it again, I could hear the horns come in, then the strings.
What a kick. Old Jack would have liked this. I sure did.
HA! Kerouac in costume playing Times Square... fitting literary references. Crisp writing; emotionally charged ending.
Stunning piece, could hear the wine of the strings drowning out the street noises beyond... Love your imagery held within the words.
Love the pace, the narrative, the imagery and like Adam, the literary references!
Profound and intense. There comes a point when we have to look back and decide if we lived the life we wanted.
Author of the Poetry book: Poetry: From Hell With Love http://bit.ly/ic2tED
Blog:http://livingwithpoetry.blogspot.com/
So much truth in this, and I followed it all the way, great write
There is a plaintiveness abotu this, a wistfulness, as if one expects to hear him break out at any time into an old story of better times. Well done. sir.
read it for the third time now - and i think it's fantastic...lots of wow-lines in here like..
Darth Vader fiddling
while Alderon burned...
...and the scream of 10 million souls
on the verge of falling silent forever...
A road trip sealed up in longing for home. Nice.
You kicked butt with this poem Steven. A snapshot of a roadtrip taken never to be forgotten I think. Excellent prompt x
Excellent, perfect, the weary - underlined with past exhilaraions - voice of lived life.
That's a sad tune he's playing, but it stays with you, and helps to blunt the sound of the ten million screams.
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