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Pursued BluesThe speed limit here is fifty,
but I'm doing a hundred and ten.
If my luck holds out till morning,
I might make it home again.

I've been moving since October
and they haven't got me yet.
I keep my eyes wide open
for every trap they set.

Sometimes I say a prayer to heaven
for the damage all around.
There is justice high above us,
but who can call it down?

The speed limit here is fifty,
but I'm doing a hundred and ten.
If my luck holds out till morning,
I might make it home again.

If I do get home tomorrow,
I will not be there long.
I'll put my arms around my people,
and then I will be gone.

But it's not so much the staying,

Let there be

Let there be silence. Let the senator rise
and open his mouth to tell his lies
and nothing come out. Let the senator sit.

Let there be silence. Let the red light glow
to begin the lies on the TV show
and nothing be heard. Let the light go out.

Let there be silence. Let the old men begin
to tell their old lies over again
and there be no sound. Let the old men stop.

Let there be silence. Let the ears forget
the sound of all that the liars said,
the drawl and bark. Let the ears rest.

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Another BluesI think I'll hire me a thief
and have him steal my blues.
Yes, I will hire me a thief
and have him steal my blues.
He could sneak right through the alley
between me and Mister Wu's.

Maybe I'll get me a magician
to make my blues disappear.
I might get me a magician
to make my blues disappear.
I don't care where they go to,
as long as they're not here.

Well, I could call Captain America
and have him come by today.
I could call up the Captain
and say, "Please come today."
He could assemble the Avengers
to drive my blues away.

But what would be the best thing
is that my baby would come home.
You know the very best thing
is that my baby would

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Submitted: April 27, 2010
Image Size: 182 KB
Resolution: 1214×1106

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Favourites: 64 [who?]
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Balladby *RichardLeach

Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Visual & Found Poetry

Charcoal on old poetry book page.

This became part of a collaboration with

and a second collaboration with

love 2 2

joy 2 2

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

~Xaliandrea Dec 9, 2010

Great concept! I really like it.

*RichardLeach Dec 9, 2010 Professional Traditional Artist

Thank you very much! And for the fave too.

~oneofthose-rachels Jun 12, 2010

I second DroopingSanityFences's comment -- the minimalism in the poem engages us and pulls us in. Gorgeous.

*RichardLeach Jun 13, 2010 Professional Traditional Artist

Thank you!

~DroopingSanityFences Jun 8, 2010

less is definitely more in this case.

*RichardLeach Jun 8, 2010 Professional Traditional Artist

thanks!

*Markus43 May 14, 2010

one of them there Pennsylvania surpirise storms

nasty and merciless

*RichardLeach May 15, 2010 Professional Traditional Artist

nasty when they strike, flooding and power loss follow - rough stuff.

*pmaeck May 7, 2010

Possibly the artist (that would be you) blacked out the lines; possibly the book's original owner did. We can't know which, and I like it that way. What emerges, of course, is a found haiku of sorts. As if the words remaining visible had emerged from their old skin, their old cocoon. These are the hardy, strong, significant words; those obliterated were the weak, sick ones. The poetic herd has been thinned by the Sharpie-weilding predator. The herd will be stronger hereafter.

*RichardLeach May 7, 2010 Professional Traditional Artist

Thank you for that incredibly great comment! I have never read a better, more poetic description of a cross-out piece than that, nor do I think I ever shall!

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