The Distance

[Sampson]

running long distance
over landscapes ever shifting
watching the faces of the mates
i used to smoked spliffs with
cherry fire lit under starry skies
twisted hedonsitic visions
acid tripping on the system
thinking, daydreaming of kissing
on a bench south of the river
and as this cold wind blows
my whole frame shivers
alive with the spirit of this city
that i don't even live in
but that's a given
because this poem
is about going the distance
about a train ticket and backpack
playing like i was jack kerouac
with a battered leather jacket
and a minimum wage pay packet
in my back pocket knocking shoulders
with a pouch of rolling tobacco
wrapped around a book of papers
leaves finer than the ones i sit defacing
with my same old road poems
about roads that i'm rolling down
atoning for my sins
and mastering this ancient discipline
of pushing pens towards sense
and enlightenment
so i pull my jacket tighter to my person
and accept that i can't finish this verse
until i'm conversing with nature
meditating on the back seat of a bus
chasing like a greyhound
and some day i will slow down
but not now

[paperleaves]

An intricate travelogue, provoking and breathtaking, all I have is one question, for you, dear Sampson..... can I travel the entire damn world with you?!



love
Katee

[Sampson]

thank you Kate, your comments are much appreciated! one day, i'm sure, we will travel together. perhaps not the entire damn world, but enough of it to write a few moving pieces about our shared experience...

[blank|verse]

Nice flow. I really like the way it just keeps going - it's breathless, just like journey you're describing; it matches nicely the two most important things in poetry - content and form.

It's a shame it's just written down and we can't hear it aloud, but it does demand to be read out rather than just read.