There are times these days
When I think I'd just like
To drag my old armchair
The comfortable one
The ragged one
Out of this broken down house
Drag it well out in the marsh
And then just sit out there
For the next fifty years or so
Contemplating
Ruminating
Cogitating
Turn my back for a long while
On the way things are
And just wonder about
What could have been
But wasn't to be
I'm tired of seeing
The same stories
Over and over and over
Day in and day out
Week after week
Month after month
Year after year
I'd like to believe
The human race
Is still headed
Somewhere luminous
Somewhere pure
But I have alot of doubts
These days
So I'd just like
To go far
Out in the marsh
And quietly sit for a while
But the newspapers
Won't let me be
Every day
Promethian eagle
Comes to pick at my soul
And I'm tired
Of the same tired stories
Of human madness
Of human numbers
I'm getting number
And number
But not comfortably so
Yes, I'd like
To drag that chair
Way out in the marsh
And simply meditate
For a nice long while
But there's this blog
And the job
And the house to pay off
And all the rest
And the clock
Is ticking
While out in the marsh
Only the swaying grass
Keeps time . . .
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25 comments:
Look at the view from that chair.
Lovely words Owen.
Beautifully disturbing words.
Love the chair. There is a bit of a "why" to the placement.
Which came first, the picture or the poem?
I think I could get comfy in that chair myself.
That chair looks surprisingly comfy. Either that or I'm in need of a damned good sit down.
Ton billet est un si bel écho ! Par quel hasard, Owen, je viens juste d'en poster un en l'honneur des deux vieux fauteuils dont je ne peux me séparer, où se blottit tant de ma vie et à qui je viens d'offrir une seconde jeunesse.
Il faut que je fasse des progrès en anglais pour savourer complètement tes mots. Photos superbes !
Bises !
A remarkable poem Owen.
I like Eloh's comment that these are "beautifully disturbing words".
I do think that the world is walking on its head sometimes.
I'm glad you mentioned your blog in the poem - yes, it's up there with the things we must do for the people in our life - US.
Lovely poem, Owen - it just flowed along - bitter sweet.
Great poem. Really great poem. Might turn out to be my second favorite poem (I don't read much poetry). The armchair just might fare less well than real life.
Number? Number? Never noticed those two before.
Owen, I think this might be my favorite of your poems so far. And the reason is... well, I can feel those words. Sometimes life needs to stop for us, but it won't. So, sometimes we have to make ourselves stop. And pulling out our oldest, most worn, but undoubtedly most comfortable chair, the chair that knows all of our secrets, is just the thing to do. And to sit there, and let life happen somewhere else, for someone else, while we allow in our pause, is just what we need. I, too, wish that work and the house mortgage payments and all of the other responsibilities would just give me a break.
And I'm tired of "the same tired stories/of human madness/of human numbers". We've all become statistics, it seems. We've all become a drop in the bucket... a tired cliche, this one, but so much like we are.
One day, I hope, we will each have our moment to meditate. Your words gave birth to too much thought, Owen. Too much...
Nevine
Sounds like a case of harsh reality vs. marsh reality.
Be sure to take plenty of bug spray with you.
I can see your poetry with accompanying fotos printed in a book with thick textured paper, the kind that comes with the ribbon attached that one can use for a bookmark.
It does seem like humanity is at a crossroads, again, and we are stuck on some sort of crazy merry-go-round.
Oh you!! I read the post and then scrolled down to the photos of the adorable chair! Pretty good post here. I would fall right through that chair, I could sit out there on a big pillow though.
that indeed, does sound like a cunning plan.. :-) excellent shots too... seriously atmospheric!
Whatever the chair, it is so good to have a rest after having a hard day work!
Nice shots and words Owen,
Take care
K'line
Là, tu me scotches ! Tu attendais quoi pour publier ces trois photos ?...
Ce fauteuil vu sous des angles différents prend un relief inimaginable ! Il semble vivant et en ce qui me concerne, je perçois comme quelque chose d'inquiétant dans ces images... Peut-être le noir et blanc qui accentue cet effet mystérieux qui entoure ce fauteuil ! Une idée d'abscence alors qui est accentuée par cette sorte de lande, de prairie désolée, ce panneau...
Superbe essai qui se passe de texte ( mais je l'ai lu... banane ! ) et qui est un régal de poésie onirique pour moi !
Mets-tu des posters en vente de ces photos ?...
Tu as rarement proposé des photos de cette qualité ! C'est pas que les autres étaient pas bonnes... loin de là... mais celles-ci sont d'une facture...
Chapeau bas mon cher Owen !
Ciao amigo !
Bonne fin de soirée ou ce qui en reste !...;)
Oh, yes...
What a life that chair must have had, Owen!!! Can you write about who designed it, made it, bought it, sat in it, feel asleep in it, got tired of it, threw it out, and finally placed it so carefully in the marsh?
All I have to do to believe in the future of mankind is look at the face of a child making her own music. Or art. Or story. Such intention, such commitment!
aaahhhh..your poetry !!
sometimes too much in news....time to look at the joy in a child's face as he/she enjoys life in it's simplicity....
You are a poet. That was great.
I do love that word 'cogitating', wonderful photos too.......
Very nicely put. However it looks like the old armchair has gotten the worst of it out there in the marsh. I guess there isn't a perfect place on this earth.
I really admire your ability to take something as ordinary as an old chair in a field and turn it into a really great looking photo.
That is something I hope to be able to do someday.
To all of you good people...
I cannot tell you how much your kind words here mean to me... every time
I am doing this for you, and I just can't say how much your echoes touch, touch me deep down inside
Visibly a few of you are ready to adopt this chair ?!? Maybe we'll have to try to auction it off, and see just what someone would bid for it... the sorriest most decrepitude stricken chair ever seen... yet something joyous and joyful about the shredded upholstery and stuffing totally disintegrated, yet the woodwork was still strong... perhaps a good craftsperson could have salvaged something here ? But for me, it's just fine the way it is, in memory, in a negative, in a print...
Et en Français... je voulais juste dire à vous tous qui passent par ici de temps en temps, à quel point votre gentillesse et vos messages me touchent mais profondement, avec un plaisir inattendu, chaque fois, c'est vraiment pour vous que je persiste avec ce projet, le bouquin de ma vie... laisser une trace, même si vous n'êtes qu'une petite poignée qui passent régulièrement, je suis comblé par vos pensées, vos réflexions, vos sourires... et oui... merci à vous tous !
Désolé de ne pas répondre individuellement cette fois-ci, mais je suis crevé par le boulot... dans le même état que cette chaise... vivement le weekend...
Take care Owen, may you have a very looooog rest in one of those magic armchairs, and have sweet dreams :)
xxx
K'line
ce texte m'a émue profondément....
Il exprime si bien la tristesse que notre monde perdu m'inspire parfois....
Et que dire de cette illustration? Ce vieux fauteuil, compagnon de tant d'heures de repos et de songeuse solitude, abandonné là sans, égard ni reconnaissance....
Wow. Lovely poem here and above. Time is a funny thing... turning chairs into skeletons, it seems. I often think there is great beauty in what is worn out and nearly done. Maybe a certain type of grace left. Your photos (as always) are beyond beauty... right in to the bones of life. Wow. :)
"There are times these days"... exactly how i feel myself... do you have an old armchair for me as well, Owen, or you wouldn't like to be disturbed? :-)
i will keep quiet, i promise :-)
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