I can't choose between the poem versions. I like them both Gary.
bw
James
>From: Gary Blankenship <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: When Mediocrity is Found by the Side of the Road
>Date: Thu, 5 Feb 2004 07:13:18 -0800
>
>(I wrote two versions - one using poetry as the theme, one not. Some folks
>do not like poems about poems, so I gave them a choice. -- Smiles. Gary)
>
>When Mediocrity is Found by the Side of the Road
>
>as opportunity presents itself. It can take mediocrity into the genius
>spectra and beyond.
> --Dane Hebert
>
>We set our feet hard on a track
>so many others have attempted
>to conquer, each fully confident
>he knew the solution to its riddles
>as we always believe we do.
>
>Strewn along the trail, signs
>their confidence was misplaced -
>busted similes; paeans to God,
>country, leaders, lovers; odes
>to birds that sing from gilded cages;
>
>sonnets without meter; bewildered
>rhyme; even verse libre without
>even the music of common prose.
>Beneath the debris, we spot
>a hint of sparkle - from jewels
>
>or a treasure of the finest gold.
>We shove aside lost, dusty words,
>kick the last with our foot to find
>a stone streaked with pyrite,
>a thumb-sized impression in one side,
>
>small enough to fit in our pocket,
>large enough to take our worries
>as we set out to find a way others missed.
>
>*
>
>When Mediocrity is Found by the Side of the Road II
>
>as opportunity presents itself. It can take mediocrity into the genius
>spectra and beyond.
> --Dane Hebert
>
>We set our feet hard on a track
>so many others have attempted
>to conquer, each fully confident
>he knew the solution to its riddles
>as we always believe we do.
>
>Strewn along the trail, signs
>their confidence was misplaced -
>busted buggies; cross stitch paeans to God,
>country, leaders, lovers; paintings
>of birds that sing from gilded cages;
>
>portraits aunts who pray and pinch;
>velvet corsets without whalebone;
>notebooks packed with purple prose.
>Beneath the debris, we spot
>a hint of sparkle - from jewels
>
>or a treasure of the finest gold.
>We shove aside tools and toys,
>kick the last with our foot to find
>an stone with a streak of pyrite,
>a thumb-sized impression in one side,
>
>small enough to fit in our pocket,
>large enough to take our worries
>as we set out to find a way others missed.
>
>
>Writer's Hood, the best poetry on the web, at http://www.writershood.com/
>Poets for Peace.... ˇPoemas sí, balas no!
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