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Looking Down the Open Road

Contributed by neveryours on Tuesday, 29th March 2005 @ 05:07:18 PM in AEST
Topic: oops

Ain't it the truth,
Ain't it just the damned
Mother of All
Honest to God
Hard core
Truth.

I watched the road
Sinking beneath my feet,
Future ablaze in
Dusty distance
Visible, oh sure, I knew
It was there alright
But looming,
The way horizons do

I felt the wind push me back,
Clothes flapping behind me
So that it appeared a vacuum
To the bystander,
The pull of the past,
The weight of the future
You can't know
Unless you're in it.

So here, as I strained my eyes
Tried to focus at least as far ahead
As Portsmouth,
(But really looking to see
The place where she came in)
I saw nothing but open road.

Now I don't know
About tomorrows
And I know too much
About Yesterdays

But I do know this,
I am walking here alone
And ain't that just the
Whole and empty truth.

Copyright © neveryours ... [ 2005-03-29 17:07:18]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Looking Down the Open Road (User Rating: 1 )
by Sagacious on Wednesday, 30th March 2005 @ 05:13:16 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

In answer to those who might say, "We'll always have Paris," conversely, let us have perpetual horizons--ablaze in Dusty distance or looming though mote they be. As the object of lost or unrequited love loses eminence to the suffering soul facing the damned/ Mother of All/ Honest to God/ Hard core/ Truth, it is the possibilies in futures unbeknownst which will ease that reality.

The use of vacuum in the third stanza is a nice reflection of the poet's mode of thought, in spite of the perception's placement with a hypothetical bystander. Also, your judicious smattering of images (I felt the wind push me back, / Clothes flapping behind me) helps in creating a more concrete, archetypal moment. Ah, but the conclusion bespeaks more of the injury inflicted than even the most skillful description of loss: I am walking here alone/ And ain't that just the/ Whole and empty truth.

A difficult admission, this, from any poet. After all is said and done, and poetics have run their course, there is this vacancy, having yet to be dealt with. It is this which drives you, O, wayfaring soul. Let it shape you by the wrangling with it, and strong in thy craft, ye shall remain. Thanks for the memories--you've been a kind soul to share. Take care, -KAC-

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