See Here Now: forensic poetry
“See here,” one poet said, “for beauty’s sake, I would enslave a thousand listless men, and though it cause the earth’s deep core to shake,…Continue …
A Thought on Artists
“Who is that person whom you call an artist? A man who is momentarily creative? To me he is not an artist. The man who…Continue …
School of Osmosis: A Declaration of Purpose
So often, the concept of education is limited to a model where information flows one way, from an educator to pupils, with the assumption that…Continue …

Tag: blues stanza

The Ride: blues stanza

Published on April 21, 2025

Fasten your seat belts, we’re off for a ride.
All of us living, together we ride.
Like it or not, you don’t get to decide.

Maybe we’ll travel and learn to be friends.
Could be the mileage will make us all friends.
The long journey on which the future depends.

There’s just no telling what’s coming up next.
No map for showing us what could be next.
Won’t know for certain just what to expect.

Got no direction, we just need to drive.
Direction don’t matter, just head out the drive.
We’ve got to move if we want to survive.

Hit the ignition and lay on the gas.
Just turn the key and press down on the gas.
If we make it through Memphis, we’ll be free at last.

Fasten your seat belts and turn up the sound.
Travel is better when you float on sound.
We’d best get moving, or end underground.

Maybe we’ll travel and learn something new.
See something different and learn something new.
We stick together, we might make it through.

21 APR 2025

Published on January 19, 2017

There is no need to holler or to shout,
no need to raise a holler shouting out;
those ain’t the kind of blues I’m talking ‘bout.

The world is in a worry, sure enough,
the world is full of worry, sure enough;
if you don’t like it, man, that there’s just tough.

Ain’t nothing much to say, and less to do,
not all that much to say, nothing to do,
won’t make a difference down at me and you.

Don’t make commotion, sure don’t raise your head,
make no commotion, better bow your head;
might raise it up and find it lopped off, dead.

When darkness lies so heavy near the ground,
sure ain’t the time to think you’ll stick around.

19 JAN 2017