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un-stuff the hay, fledgling crow
scare away the glean and pinch
of pulling push towards sorrow
empty man fills up on beauty
tryin’ to take it to his grave
hollow man fills up on dread
his heart already in his grave
patience wins the war of age
listen young crow, you gotta keep on
preenin' and pluckin’ and pulling straw,
don’t be takin’ no lessons from ravens
on how to pester with squawk and caw
lonely man fills up on meat
angry man fills up on hate
humble man fills up on faith
you can’t fight the flood with fire
anyhow
answer me, old crow with your booty
of empty pants, ragged shirt and farmer’s hat-
whose biddin’ will you do
when there’s no straw man alurkin’
causin’ problems for you, for you?
whose biddin',whose biddin’
will you do?
love the images...flowed very well...will check out more of your stuff....where did you grow up?
had me thinking something else. I saw Dorothy screaming "Oh, straw man down! You really do need a brain, you klutz."
voodoo story, some dark tale passed down through the ages..
It has that fairy tale feel to it but in a dark way.
Like the original Oz books...
It's a wonderful piece
And can I say...it has a southern feel to it...
Thank you
This poem smacks of summer-baked gas station stoops and migrant worker campfire circles. I can see the black sparkle in her eye as the storyteller's voice creaks in rhythm with her chair. Absolutely beautiful, NJ!
I love this! The message drew me in, but the rhythm and repetition hypnotyzed me. Wow!