Under the Poet Tree
AKA: Colleen on the Soap Box ~ It’s always a challenge to choose which poems to read at a spoken word performance. The poems should be varied but flow well together.
My friend Mara began her last reading at the Blacksburg London Underground Pub with an offering of “something borrowed, something blue, something old, and something new.”
I took my lead from her for my recent Floyd Fest reading and read only material with the word blue somewhere in the text. The following poem represented the short and lighter part of the mix and was meant as encouragement to people who meditate but find themselves nodding off and periodically having to lift their heads off their chests.… (Let’s hope those who were listening to the poetry readings, weren’t doing the same).
Blue Lake Meditation
Our heads
like the bows
of rowboats bob
as we drift in and out
of consciousness
On a blue lake of stillness
the mantra is the oar
that guides us from the undertow
of sleep’s dark allure
Comments
ramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramaramarama
Posted by: joeyk | August 8, 2005 10:29 AM
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah (responding to joeyk's mantra comment)
Posted by: colleen | August 8, 2005 10:59 AM
I think my head is bobing right now. Time for a nap.
Posted by: Colleen | August 8, 2005 12:56 PM
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
Posted by: joeyk | August 8, 2005 1:12 PM
I miss the po'tree already. I want three next year. I miss festivalization. The real world out here is dim and has too many structures.
Posted by: mara | August 8, 2005 2:46 PM
Lovely and guess what? I stayed awake the entire time my little rowboat drifted atop your poem.
Nice work.
Posted by: Weary Hag | August 8, 2005 3:43 PM
Giggling....
Great poem, too.
Posted by: Elissa Malcohn | August 9, 2005 1:07 AM