0808 - Parson Street

By Parson Thru

Wed, 11 Dec 2013
  • 894 reads
2 comments
 

I ain't got nothin to say

Nothin to say

Makin my way in the train

Same every day

Every mornin I look out the winder

Tryin to figure what goes on inside

Hearin the talk of a hundred tongues

Every one with something to say

Tellin their stories

Shootin the breeze

But that ain't me

No sir

I'm just takin a ride

Diggin the trees

Ain't got nothin to tell to nobody

I ain't got nothin to say

Certificate U
Poem
Parson Thruses Dairy
Autobiography

Comments

Submitted by Bee on

Hi PT.

Written to the rhythm and the sound of the tracks? This has the feeling of thoughts lulled by the monotonous sounds around. It feels to me like it could go on in an endless repetition - like a negative meditative affirmation. But then, of course, the journey would end and the train would stop leaving life to go on to a more lively rhythm.

I recognized the (in a train, gloomy) feelings expressed, and I enjoyed your poem.

 

Bee

Submitted by Parson Thru on

Hi Bee. I see what you mean. It hadn't occurred to me but I think you have a point. I don't know anything about meditation other than the naturally occurring kind. I'm intrigued by what you say. Tell me more.I'm really glad you enjoyed it. Thank you for taking the time to say so. Never sure whether to post this stuff. If the brain is an organ, is the mind its music?

Parson Thru