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DLR's, DD's and DLD's

Old Boys
Riding down country roads
to local farms on a Saturday
with my granddad
to see equipment auctions
as the old boys cashed in
Standing there in bib overalls or Dickies
with their dark glasses on
smoking pipes and cigars
they'd talk politics or crops
their deep voices rumbling quietly
I was enthralled...listening to the auctioneer
rattle off prices at breakneck speed
for a Farmall tractor going once
going twice
Sold to the man in front...
Or grandpa would take me with him
to the local VFW Post 6464
on Thursday evenings
to play Euchre with his friends
I'd bring along a few dog-eared
Reader's Digest magazines to read
as they played
Every so often I would walk over and
say hi, see how grandpa was faring
Usually he was cleaning house
winning almost every hand he played in
The ladies would bring a cake
and we'd have that with coffee
It felt...comfortable in a way
I find hard to explain
Sitting there surrounded by veterans
men who still wore those black-rimmed glasses
and their hair was

Rhapsody In Zero GravityIs deep space silent?
Amid the revolving spheres.
In perpetual night.
Or does God whisper?
Echoing across light-years vast.
Filling the void with song.

The Guardian Wraith of Starlit SmokeOur sitting here by lantern-light together                
In the thick of a teeming snowfall;
The final golden glow,
Against the ancient sovereignty of night,
Like the last petal off a flower.                        
It is turning three hundred years
He never let the lantern drop.
The illimitable dark and cold and storm,
Whose work is to find out God;
And when they came it seemed with a will  
To carry me with them to death.                                                
                                 
What comes over a man, is it soul or mind-
(The Devil enters like a sapphire wasp)
Twixt what to love and what to hate                  
To find out how to get away from God?
         
No one has seen him stumble looking back                
From having died
Inaudibly in thought;
The sorrow of having been left behind.
         
The land was ours before we were the land's
And having it all made over new                          
From force to matter and back to force,
The alrea

Black-Hand SpadeOld green sedan
Rusting away in the tall grass.
Far from prying eyes she was
Took a lifetime to find her.
Saddle-tramp leather chaps
Hang from a rawboned frame.
Weathered jawline
Comfortable with smiling
Peers out beneath the sun.
Skeletons are friends we never found
Dreaming of lush riverbanks
So far from home.
Dust on the horizon
Blacksmith's heart slicing the hardpan.
A tremble, a tremble
Gallops that engine
Of war.
(She looked at me across the veranda
Sitting there at Scarsdale Plantation
While the ladies played croquet on the south lawn
And she smiled...)

So long ago.
Collins and I
We ride out under that western sky
Rolling 'tween the purple sage and tumbleweeds
No one to ask us why
Green sedan
You purr for me.
Hula girl dancing on the dash
Beckons sweetly...promising everything.
Sundown in the distance falling
Sunglasses reflecting;
Radio is singing lullabies
Of lost hearts and moonlit gardens...
And Collins just smiles that reaper's grin
Men call him Black-Hand Spade.

All Seasons PromenadeAll outside is dreary and grey
Jack Frost is preparing his speech
In his sharp baritone
Of icy points and dusty stars of white
From the northlands comes a hollow roar
Old Man Winter is striding about
Preparing to descend in a week or two
In all his glorious, furious might
In another year
You'll see Autumn at his dapper best
Arrayed in top hat, tails and spats
Till then he's in the Old Dominion
Sipping a mint julep with young Summertime
They discuss the Farmer's Almanac
While playing croquet or pinochle for laughs
Yet none of these compare
To that effervescent princess known as
Spring
Adorned in lilacs and cherry blossoms
Eyes that sparkle with morning dew
The forest glades now rendered in
Charcoal silhouette
To them she'll bring
Tender buds of kelly green
And the seasons will promenade
In their wondrous, ancient ways
Set in motion by almighty God
To Whom they render praise and laud.

AntarcticaSnowlands lost and frozen
Beneath the northern lights
Wind shrieks on dark shores
Here at the end of the world.
Beneath the northern lights
We gaze in silent reverie
Bank the coals and whisper
Ethereal dreams await.
Wind shrieks on dark shores
Icebergs glow ghostly blue
Forbidding desert vast
Wasteland of snow.
Here at the end of the world
Truth has been distilled
Amid the crushing roar
Of silence and renown.

The Hard ManIrish laddy with a lavender bent
The darling of society with zero propriety
Your wit is flamboyant, this is true
Though I doubt a Vermonter
Should trust a lech like you.
I've wandered the lanes of hardy New England
Learning the rhythms of their stoic band
Perchance to describe a snowy wood or
The sweat and toil of the reaping man.
You reveled in infamy
Flouting conventions with your blithe tongue a-stir
Sashaying with the ladies and lads, partying till dawn
Remarking that your "blue china" outstripped even you.
We both were born of a rare generation, I'll allow
The 19th Century in all her Victorian charms and strait-laced graces
Yet in your folly you bucked the prevailing winds
To your immediate detriment and eventual ruin.
As for me, I was nearly hailed a National Treasure
Having received a Congressional Medal of Honor
Not s'bad for a surly old codger
Whose fame was attributed to the common man.
Tis' sad that you were forced to break rocks
Laboring under an iron hand
If only you'd bee

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Blacksand459
Stan
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
Hi folks! I'm a hobbyist photographer and writer. I love doing both...the sense of elation I feel when I find a great scene to shoot, or when the words flow onto the page seemingly of their own accord.

dA User No. 10,233,032 Want to find yours? rubycored.deviantart.com/art/Y…

The best part of DA is the wonderful people! I've made some great friends here, and I urge you to look through my friends and watch list...my friends are truly gifted.

Current Residence: Michigan, USA :iconspeedycatplz::iconspeedycatplz2::iconspeedycatplz3:

Favourite photographer: William Eggleston/Lewis Hine/Margaret Bourke-White
Favourite style of art: Ash Can School/Art Deco/Surrealism/Industrial
Personal Quote: Those days are gone forever. ~ Pretzel Logic by Steely Dan
Interests

Punctuating Poetry

Journal Entry: Wed Jun 10, 2015, 3:32 PM
Blacksand459 l Gallery l dA Portfolio l

OK. Here's my dilemma:

Grammar/punctuation is by definition, a set protocol of perception. 

How does one punctuate a piece, not according to "written style," but according to "spoken English," and furthermore,
not just spoken like a nightly news anchor in monotone...

but in rhythm, with inflection, with dramatic pauses, 

so I guess my question should be...

How would one punctuate a theatrical piece? 

Because this last poem I wrote is intrinsically tied to an album I listened to while I wrote it.


Also, being grammatically "correct" means that the way in which someone expresses themselves, is "incorrect" if it doesn't follow the rules. 
Sentence fragments, etc. 

Well, I tell you what. I bet that when folks first came out with jazz, that it was deemed "incorrect" by many people; still is. (Though I myself love it.)
Point being...how does someone fit punctuation to THEIR voice, in order to allow others to hear it my way, not someone elses? 


El Capitanwho is walking towards me
with the lumbering gait
as the horns blare
they gleam in the heat
sweating music
as he comes closer
nearing the crowd
a one-man parade
the regiments are only
cardboard cutouts
affixed with glue to their
wooden scabbards
he is the captain
his cigar is succulent
pleasantly burning
and I was afraid
the old woman stands in her doorway
on the threshold she peers at his shadow
she recalls a long-lost suitor
who was ravished by the sea
she perceives the captain's face
wondering at the eyes behind the sunglasses
and now he is pausing at her home
she takes his offered hand, kissing the signet there
grateful for his smile
and she entreats him to come in
for a repast
a very old man sits at the table
looking out to sea
he mutters to himself
then turns to see the captain enter
the men look at each other for a moment
and the old man mutters again
looking out to sea
he talks slowly
each word an anchor
his eyebrows grey as fog
gazing at the restless breakers
that lap the shor


I'm not asking for someone to do it for me. I just want to know if there are different guidelines. 

Or should poems have footnotes or something, like a script for a play, that tells you what was intended?
For that matter, look at Shakespeare's plays. How do we know to read them in a certain style? Perhaps that's a different mechanism. 

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Favorite Quotes

"I can make a lord, but only God can make a gentleman."
~ King James I of England 1566-1625

"If you think it's expensive to hire a professional to do the job, wait until you hire an amateur."
~ Red Adair 1915-2004


"A Steely Dan concert is akin to witnessing the passage of a single multiplex vehicle the size of a motorcade or convoy, its various segments comprising limousines, ice-cream wagons, hearses, lunch-carts, ambulances, black marias, and motorcycle outriders, all of it Rolls-grade and lacquered like a tropical beetle. The horns glint, as it rolls majestically past, splendid, a thing of legend, and utterly peculiar unto itself."
~ William Gibson, Festival International de Jazz de Montreal 2008: July 2.


"I unconsciously decided that, even if it wasn't an ideal world, it should be. So I painted only the ideal aspects of it - pictures in which there are no drunken slatterns or self-centered mothers... only foxy grandpas who played baseball with the kids and boys who fished from logs and got up circuses in the backyard." ~ Norman Rockwell 1894-1978

"Let us upon new thoughts write antique verses."
~ Andre Chenier 1762-1794

"One must do coolly the things which are most fiery."
~ Hector Berlioz 1803-1869

Art is a force which frees the soul and through which one can grasp "certain rhythms of life and breath" which compel one "to fall in with it, like passerby who join in a dance; these rhythms compel us to set in motion, in the depth of our being, some secret chord which was only waiting to thrill."
~ Henri Bergson 1859-1941

"Hug and kiss whoever helped get you - financially, mentally, morally, emotionally - to this day. Parents, mentors, friends, teachers. If you're too uptight to do that, at least do the old handshake thing, but I recommend a hug and a kiss. Don't let the sun go down without saying thank you to someone, and without admitting to yourself that absolutely no one gets this far alone."
~Stephen King, Commencement Address, U. of Maine, 5-07-05


"And what guarantee, pray, have you that your life will last longer? Who will suffer your course to be just as you plan it? Are you not ashamed to reserve for yourself only the remnant of life, and to set apart for wisdom only that time which cannot be devoted to any business?

How late it is to begin to live just when we must cease to live! What foolish forgetfulness of mortality to postpone wholesome plans to the fiftieth and sixtieth year, and to intend to begin life at a point to which few have attained!"

~ Lucius Annaeus Seneca 4 BC- AD 65, on 'The Shortness of Life.'

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:iconveeegeee:
veeegeee Featured By Owner 4 days ago  Professional Writer
:iconfavtnxplz::iconyoyorunrightplz::iconyoyorunrightplz::iconyoyorunrightplz::iconfavtnxplz::iconfavtnxplz::iconyoyorunleftplz::iconyoyorunleftplz::iconyoyorunleftplz::iconfavtnxplz:
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:iconoaklungs:
oaklungs Featured By Owner 4 days ago
thank you very much for the favourite :thanks:
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:iconwaynebenedet:
WayneBenedet Featured By Owner 6 days ago
Thank you for the :+fav: Stan
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:iconrougealizarine:
rougealizarine Featured By Owner Jul 22, 2015  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thanks so much for the favs :)
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:iconeintoern:
EintoeRn Featured By Owner Jul 19, 2015  Hobbyist Photographer
:iconbigfav4plz::iconfoxyoplz:


Many thanks again, Stan :handshake:
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:iconcalleighblack:
CalleighBlack Featured By Owner Jul 16, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Hey amigo. Thanks for the fave. But mostly, thanks for being happy for me. :)
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:iconblacksand459:
Blacksand459 Featured By Owner Jul 20, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Of course, my friend! :) 
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:iconcalleighblack:
CalleighBlack Featured By Owner Jul 20, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
You know I had to link you 'cause I'm a 'Bama girl. ;) youtu.be/oLfNcD5OlJI
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:iconoceaniclove:
oceaniclove Featured By Owner Jul 13, 2015
Thank you for the fav!
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:iconserendiipitii:
Serendiipitii Featured By Owner Jul 2, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the support, I really appreciate it! :rose:
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