Congratulations !
You have been awarded points.
Thank you for !
- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Biography / Autobiography
- Published: 03/29/2013
SWIFT RIVERS SMOOTH ROUGH STONES
M, from Baltimore, Maryland, United StatesSWIFT RIVERS SMOOTH ROUGH STONES
Yeah I was the rebel who loved babies
cool in the down hill run from glory
the car called hope was the taxi I hailed
looking for that breeze to billow my sail
for I was that mere boy who took to carousing in the face of the conforming fifties
when nothing much changed except the gurgling going down in the underground
till the tummy beat bopped and burped that quipster's scheme into a hipster's dream
alive in the demands and desires done in by protests and promises hitching through
the highs and hell awash in war and wandering with the wonder
of shocking shaking shooting within and without me
like a cacophonic fantastic sur-electric
foundry molding melting pot
mind blown head trip
journey to the spellbound...otherwise known as the sixties
where I caught myself admiring an alluring woman
extolling all that was important to me...dirty puddles
...sidewalk cracks...the thick rich foliage of a tropical island
on which a luscious tree showed off her peacock flowers
to no avail they paled in the wake of that girl in the short white dress
prettier than all those fade to jealous blossoms
heralding the rock odyssey of iron maidens
on the trail to barns in woods
I spot that smiling girl on a barrel bridge
but does she sense or can she see
what lurks in a shallow stream
black in the low of the looking up
the sugar sand...icing on aqua water mirroring an azure sky
making lacy clouds out of a great white heron spearing anorexic fish
when suddenly this same what's her name...caramel licorice beauty
arose and stole all the loveliness from the sea
perhaps because there was no one left but the three of us
heart soul and mind tucked into a defenseless four wheel rabbit
alone looking at the looming...on the road forever looping
bisecting unsuspecting rolling green hills
laying in their jaded wait for a brooding spreading alien saucer calamity convention
as a little lass crossed her legs unable to hold it any more
strangely enough...life felt good on the cupcake edge of the purple abyss
that little girl with her mom staring out at unimaginable distances of futures unforeseen
while barely hearing the awesome silence of a swift river smoothing rough stones.
by L Douglas St Ours
November 2012
SWIFT RIVERS SMOOTH ROUGH STONES(L Douglas St Ours)
SWIFT RIVERS SMOOTH ROUGH STONES
Yeah I was the rebel who loved babies
cool in the down hill run from glory
the car called hope was the taxi I hailed
looking for that breeze to billow my sail
for I was that mere boy who took to carousing in the face of the conforming fifties
when nothing much changed except the gurgling going down in the underground
till the tummy beat bopped and burped that quipster's scheme into a hipster's dream
alive in the demands and desires done in by protests and promises hitching through
the highs and hell awash in war and wandering with the wonder
of shocking shaking shooting within and without me
like a cacophonic fantastic sur-electric
foundry molding melting pot
mind blown head trip
journey to the spellbound...otherwise known as the sixties
where I caught myself admiring an alluring woman
extolling all that was important to me...dirty puddles
...sidewalk cracks...the thick rich foliage of a tropical island
on which a luscious tree showed off her peacock flowers
to no avail they paled in the wake of that girl in the short white dress
prettier than all those fade to jealous blossoms
heralding the rock odyssey of iron maidens
on the trail to barns in woods
I spot that smiling girl on a barrel bridge
but does she sense or can she see
what lurks in a shallow stream
black in the low of the looking up
the sugar sand...icing on aqua water mirroring an azure sky
making lacy clouds out of a great white heron spearing anorexic fish
when suddenly this same what's her name...caramel licorice beauty
arose and stole all the loveliness from the sea
perhaps because there was no one left but the three of us
heart soul and mind tucked into a defenseless four wheel rabbit
alone looking at the looming...on the road forever looping
bisecting unsuspecting rolling green hills
laying in their jaded wait for a brooding spreading alien saucer calamity convention
as a little lass crossed her legs unable to hold it any more
strangely enough...life felt good on the cupcake edge of the purple abyss
that little girl with her mom staring out at unimaginable distances of futures unforeseen
while barely hearing the awesome silence of a swift river smoothing rough stones.
by L Douglas St Ours
November 2012
- Share this story on
- 9
COMMENTS (0)