Are we? Really?
I often feel driving is the safest mode of travel. But in the past, experts say flying is safer than driving.
I have airplane issues, so I prefer to drive. You see more, creative juices flow, and so on...
Trying to decide where to go with this. The photo above is like a story of someone who runs from their fears or monsters, but at every turn they see them in unlikely things.
Monday I discovered the pool was open and decided to take a walk. When I saw it was possible to go for a swim, I did. The water over the past three weeks, with night air cooling down from the eighties, this was no different, it has been cold. Maybe a few degrees cooler, uh yes, but I could handle it right? I went in head first. It was then the memory of hitting the river in
'As The World Churns', well, it hit me. A cold blast of somewhere between I cannot breath, and what was I thinking. But the body and mind did worked together.
With help from my legs. I pushed on and used it for an advantage, of weight control. Exercising vigorously the past two months has been great. Another monster to conquer. But the pool is no river. A bit calmer.
Rivers are monsters we should never challenge.
I have never tried using Greek Mythology in my poems before, until this. I have heard a local guy who attended my open mic, reading his own GM filled works. At times I felt it was boring, and had heard others say the same, but now I think his work will make more sense, and I have a greater appreciation. I do like reading about mythology. Jessie Carty has switched our poem share from Thursday to
Make Friday Write!
Before Man Grew In Numbers
"Wild as the blasts of roaring Boreas, or shouting Notos
when with hurricane-swoop he heaves the wide sea high,
when in the east up-rises the disastrous Altar-star
bringing calamity to seafarers." -Fall of Troy
their voices proceed
lurking, just beyond dense wood
where primordial son, Euryalos run
cyclops wide stepping and clumsy
moving land and
leaving the fallen under feet
to brothers rot and decay
under gods who
make sanctuary of gray monument
of rivers reaping blood
forging tears from woman's womb
filling a monsters shoes.
Here are my original lines that lead to the above-
I begin looking for the fallen
down rich green paths
man made signs direct us, past
gray monuments
our feet pressing down
new shoots, flowerless
bottom life forced back
a beetle settled on green leaf
speaking to the sky
talking of water gods
they had already arrived
for centuries left in command
brothers fear and paralysis
began laying the foundation
bringing this sanctuary to a close.
Not sure where I will go with these. I am trying, and have written many more lines.
This is the river view after it took part of Route 287 (above and below). Local police and road workers look down in amazement. I look at the layers of dirt and sand put down over the years as the road is built, then widened, and see how the power of water can do such damage. I also understand how monsters are used to create more power.
But do monsters have a conscious? Or do they just unleash nightmares...
