Confessions of a Sunday Driver

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RSWells
Member Elite

since 2001-06-17

Posts 2533

0 posted 2001-09-22 06:55 PM

Bugs sacrificed streaked patterns on the windshield
as the road kept diving underneath the hood,
the wide corridor of pine trees seem to yield
where a fillin' station or flea market stood.

The blue ceilinged, green walled, gray floor I travel
is a tunnel of white crosses of the dead,
it's ribbed offshoot's the county roads of gravel
East Texas' thicket which hides the underfed.

A city's ghettoed poor are in a glass case
though we're warned not to drive down certain streets,
impoverished several thousands live without trace
in trailers, shacks that the piney wood secretes.

I pass through towns like Cut N' Shoot and Cleveland
for Sunday's seeing Jacqueline in prison,
sixty miles I drive often caught believin'
I'm like the poor awaitin' Christ's re-risen.

In swampy front yards unintended planters,
broke down cars and dreams litter the lonesome trail,
the crude handwritten sign the disenchanter
placed, a last ditch plea an aging "parts for sale".

I can't reconcile overall unfairness,
I rail against it with fists so tightly furled
enraged not blind I also own awareness
that there are billions far worse throughout the world.

Earth spins at seven hundred miles per hour
and we adhere just like grabby velcro balls,
in delusion that we have our own power
ducking earthquakes, hurricaines, tornadoes, squalls.

Pay a million just above poverty's level
to guard two million behind the razor wire,
all trapped together disenfranchised, confined
most not by choice, a few just cheaply hired.

Remnants of the rain retained by the roadway
rise a misted curtain sprayed by eighteen wheels,
I think about the stone cast souls of Pompeii
whose last breath cursed and whose to their god appealed?

Past fenced fields of goats, donkeys, cows all colors
where sentineled white egrets with stiffened spine
know food, shade, rest occasionally take Lovers,
unharmed in their ignorance of the Devine.

Stomach tightens, I sight the prison complex
gleaming chain link, towers, straight blue barrack walls,
I switch my eyes, face for some where hope reflects
then labor to raise my mood from where it crawls.

I reverse the ride in silence feeling spent,
like a widow forced to delay a burial,
a working man whose overtime just paid the rent,
a frightened cuckold ending truth's pursual.

Tired, empty, drained my mind flashes daydreams
such ease draws the magnet of the Semi's grill,
with no assurance of peace beyond the screams
I choose to wait for my cross upon the hill.

SEA

Moderator

Member Seraphic

since 2000-01-18

Posts 22676
with you

1 posted 2001-09-22 07:00 PM

the pictures you paint and the journeys you take your readers on, is always, without fail, remarkable

JamesMichael
Member Empyrean

since 1999-11-16

Posts 33336
Kapolei, Hawaii, USA

2 posted 2001-09-22 07:13 PM

An array of insteresting confessions...James

Mysteria

Member Laureate

since 2001-03-07

Posts 18328
British Columbia, Canada

3 posted 2001-09-24 02:17 PM

Richard, I can not believe you write these as you drive! This was remarkable at catching the despair in this world as it currently looks not only in Texas, but everywhere. I think this stanza in particular a lot can relate to, as right now, it is hard to muster our mood to accommodate others:

"Stomach tightens, I sight the prison complex
gleaming chain link, towers, straight blue barrack walls,
I switch my eyes, face for some where hope reflects
then labor to raise my mood from where it crawls."

A well written piece of a mind churning with thoughts of the oppressed, and of the surroundings that we all find depressing at times. Great write.

~* A smile is just a frown turned upside down *~

Lady In White

Member Elite

since 2001-02-12

Posts 2799
USA

4 posted 2001-09-24 02:22 PM

As your confessions congeal into revelations, I stand here in awe, and some amaze, and wonder at the veracity of your soul...

you are amazing...

illusion
Member

since 2001-06-19

Posts 296

5 posted 2001-09-24 03:13 PM

This is magnificent. I think I knew, simply from what you were noticing along the way, that your destination held no pleasure or anticipation. For when we're happy, we focus on the sun and the breeze and the flowers and other such stuff and are hesitant to let the realities of the less fortunate intrude. Great observations, superbly written.

Duncan
Member Ascendant

since 2001-08-07

Posts 5455

6 posted 2001-09-25 01:48 AM

I can't reconcile overall unfairness,
I rail against it with fists so tightly furled
enraged not blind I also own awareness
that there are billions far worse throughout the world.

I almost hate acknowledging these lines above the others but the first especially touched my reality.
You are one of few poets that hold my attention for the time it takes to absorb your stories. The way you describe the South, without stereotype or degradation, though describing it in all it's junkyard glory.
I enjoyed this tremendously.

Midnitesun

Member Empyrean

since 2001-05-18

Posts 28647
Gaia

7 posted 2001-09-25 02:06 AM

This is so unbelievably honest in its portrait of the American landscape most travelers choose to ignore. Most definitely images you'll never find in any travel brochure. Yet you have painted a portrait with words so vivid that I saw the swampy 'parts for sale' signs, the razor fences, and the not-so-hidden poor we try to ignore. But I especially appreciated the honesty in this:
"I can't reconcile overall unfairness,
I rail against it with fists so tightly furled
enraged not blind I also own awareness
that there are billions far worse throughout the world" on a lighter note, I really liked the fuzzy velcro ball imagery

[This message has been edited by Midnitesun (edited 09-25-2001).]

Kit McCallum

Administrator

Member Laureate

since 2000-04-30

Posts 14774
Ontario, Canada

8 posted 2001-09-25 06:53 AM

What a remarkable journey RSWells! Incredible description you've penned within this piece of stark reality. Very much enjoyed your use of imagery!

Best wishes,
/Kit

Tracey
Member Elite

since 2001-08-29

Posts 2808
where insanity meets breeding

9 posted 2001-09-25 07:21 AM

What a stark, bleak landscape painted here. Excellant piece of penmanship. You make me see a lot with this piece

If she who dies with the most toys wins, then can I have some toy boys please?

rwood
Member Elite

since 2000-02-29

Posts 3793
Tennessee

10 posted 2001-09-26 08:35 PM

You absorb...you write...I absorb! Thank you! You may be a Sunday driver...but not with rose colored glasses. I appreciate that. The whole picture has always been more beautiful to me.

Sincerely,
Regina

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