I heard this joke from a dying old man who was leaning on the edge of his hospital bed He whispered in my ear I can't remember what he said but that wasn't the point for me It was that he still found time to feel alive even at the old age of a hundred and five and when I looked real close I saw the sparkle in his eyes I said "sir, you're alright by me" Then we both kinda laughed and we both kinda smiled He said it sure was nice to talk with you for awhile I said the pleasure's all mine you've got the heart of a child then he sighed and went back to sleep And I hope that he dreams of some childhood memories that might bring him some peace and let him be I heard this story about death and deception from a vietnam vet at a wedding reception he had one too many drinks in his plastic cup collection but that didn't matter much to me It was that he spoke his words with such conviction even though I think he knew he was blending fact and fiction and he put me in such an awkward postition but that was alright with me And he spoke of ghosts and scary old witches and said we're all just the son's of bitches with hopes and dreams and dying last wishes that we'll never live out to see Well lonesomeness it is a disease that will bring you straight down to your knees you don't want none of this boy take it from me you just can't give out your heart for free and I knew then that our history was all bullshit and dying dreams and the future was just the rotted core of the past and color schemes... designed to keep us happy I've got notebooks filled with pages of shit that spits and spouts from out my lips my pen and pad they both get pissed and they go ahead and blame it on me Well it's half my fault but half their's too my words get stuck in crazy glue and I don't know what else I can do so I just let them roam freely and they'll come home eventually just like our troops across the sea I just wish they'd be more dilligent and return safely to me Well you can blame the president or me or war for all this shit let's just hurry up and get it over with So we can say that our history was all bullshit and dying dreams and the future was the rotted core of the past and color schemes... designed to keep us happy!
Bik, You've got a great sense of rhythm, and it shows through in the way that many of your lines in this poem display at least one triple syllable foot, or in normal english, a segment 3 syllables long that in your case have this rhythm: duh duh DAH (or unstressed unstressed stressed). You also show some budding technical skill with your rhyme scheme and so on. Surprisingly, many poets these days are incapable of writing poetry with formal rhyme scheme and formal meter (rhythm) because it is generally accepted by the poetic world that metrical (having formal rhythm) poetry has no merit in our current situation! I disagree, and if anyone tries to tell you you shouldnt write poems with formal structure, then tell 'em to go to hell! Anyway, I just thought I'd reccomend a book to you since I think you've got talent in the area of rhythm: Poetic Form and Meter by Paul Fussel. It is a little dry, but it is SO interesting, and explains all of the different strucures that can be used to make up a poem, etc. So check it out if you have a chance Best, -V
