Tilted Forum Project Discussion Community - View Single Post

kalisto_911 · 06-09-2004, 07:13 AM

I am hitting the road in aprox. 9 hours, jesus I have waited a long time for this. 11 hour drive, this will be a blast.

I found a poem about a road trip:

Road trip
by C.Lynagh (Member) - published: 04/05/03
© Copyright by C.Lynagh

I didn’t know to take this road,
Who does? We’re not paid to know.
So I walked and trotted, tripped and fell.
It hurt I got bruised, but this not end’th the tail.

The porter named ‘Jack’, a farmer and porter on the side,
Tapped my shoulder and whispered, “join this ride”.
“It takes you all the way, to where they all jest, and if you use my name, you’ll save 10%”

So I figured, deliberated, and added up the sums.
What do you know, he was right jesters did party there.
Unfortunately mine was not one.
Suffice to say, never take a farmer’s word as gospel,
His road, his ride, may not give your desired affect.

Each mull his own, and each tarmac has a king who douses it with roses.
I walked the lonely road to wherever it stopped,
Hopeful perhaps gold pots grew at the top.
No. They didn’t, they don’t. Roads just end.

I have a joyful ending, all stories must.
Even though I didn’t know which road to take,
Someone, somewhere, on some road someplace taught me a trick.

And I stopped looking at the road,
And I started looking at the place,
And I stopped judging the walker,
And I started remembering to walk.

URL: http://www.lit.org/view/4429
Published by Lit.Org (http://www.lit.org)

06-09-2004, 07:13 AM	#26 (permalink)
kalisto_911 Psycho Location: Dreams	I am hitting the road in aprox. 9 hours, jesus I have waited a long time for this. 11 hour drive, this will be a blast. I found a poem about a road trip: Road trip by C.Lynagh (Member) - published: 04/05/03 © Copyright by C.Lynagh I didn’t know to take this road, Who does? We’re not paid to know. So I walked and trotted, tripped and fell. It hurt I got bruised, but this not end’th the tail. The porter named ‘Jack’, a farmer and porter on the side, Tapped my shoulder and whispered, “join this ride”. “It takes you all the way, to where they all jest, and if you use my name, you’ll save 10%” So I figured, deliberated, and added up the sums. What do you know, he was right jesters did party there. Unfortunately mine was not one. Suffice to say, never take a farmer’s word as gospel, His road, his ride, may not give your desired affect. Each mull his own, and each tarmac has a king who douses it with roses. I walked the lonely road to wherever it stopped, Hopeful perhaps gold pots grew at the top. No. They didn’t, they don’t. Roads just end. I have a joyful ending, all stories must. Even though I didn’t know which road to take, Someone, somewhere, on some road someplace taught me a trick. And I stopped looking at the road, And I started looking at the place, And I stopped judging the walker, And I started remembering to walk. URL: http://www.lit.org/view/4429 Published by Lit.Org (http://www.lit.org) __________________ I know not how I may seem to others, but to myself I am but a small child wandering upon the vast shores of knowledge, every now and then finding a small bright pebble to content myself with. [Plato]