[Soaring Feather]

Of Beer and Beethoven

Of beer and Beethoven I know not
since my lot is that of a fair maiden
country lass, with lots o sass
with golden locks, simple frocks
for tending flocks of butterflies
and cattails wild, and pollywogs
with half a tail....

And trains running on skinny rails
wails of wolves in the glens
and brown and white and speckled hens
of crying out for fear of wrens
brightly spangled fighting hens
and screams making the blood
run cold from down the hollow
blowing heat and sweat ... in saunas old
covered with mould

And where is your loyality
you may ask...
It's freedom, it's mine
no renegade I...
nor gaunt, nor dead
nor spit in the eye
Like silent partners
roaming in fields
of clover these poets
hover over this place known

I am the poet whose voice
doth sing and fly with dragons in the sky
Stand me near the perpheral rim
and I will fly with him....
sprinkle diamonds in the night
hold him dear in our flight, or yes
hold him dear in our flight

bentfeather
a/k/a MHL
Copyright © 2003
All Rights Reserved

[fatima]

Goood night bentfeather

[Kathy in Alaska]

Handsome devil, that Beethoven fella. Lovely musing, ms feather. Thanks for sharing.

[SevenofNine]

Well surf over to Jersrelum Post wire they report IDF commando are lay smackdown on Ramallah area and surrounded Arafat HQ in Ramallah

OOPS maybe bomb that bus wasn't good idea eh

[Fawnn]

I love this poem!!! Wonderful job, bentfeather.

Did I read somewhere that you're having a book published? (The poem triggered a "sorta" memory. Sorry but I've been having a foggy few days again and haven't read all of all threads -- and the stuff I "skim" often goes in one eye and out the other.) ;)

[MoJo2001]

Thank you so much for your wonderful poem!! *HUGS*

[Fawnn]

I see that the new thread is up, but I haven't moved beyond your poem. Want to share some thoughts it triggered.

It made me think of:
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
by T.S. Eliot
"But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen..." <-- I've often said that that line was a prophetic one about the Internet. (Your poem triggered memories of other lines from that poem, but I just wanted to point that part out.) ;)

At the same time, it made me think of Gramma and Don Marchis' archy and, specifically, mehitabel:

I have had my ups and downs
but wotthehell wotthehell
yesterday sceptres and crowns
fried oysters and velvet gowns
...
but there is nothing I really regret
wotthehell wotthehell
there s a dance in the old dame yet....


I included old sarge and Radix on this post because the picture in post #281 made me think of:

Windy Nights
by Robert Louis Stevenson
From Child's Garden of Verses

Whenever the moon and stars are set,
Whenever the wind is high,
All night long in the dark and wet,
A man goes riding by.
Late in the night when the fires are out,
Why does he gallop and gallop about?

Whenever the trees are crying aloud,
And ships are tossed at sea,
By, on the highway, low and loud,
By at the gallop goes he.
By at the gallop he goes, and then
By he comes back at the gallop again.

(I've always loved the cadence of that poem!)