Robert Johnson

[hello]

(I've never done this before but I wanna learn, I apreciate your comments event the most vituperative. I haven't tried to put it any form cos I don't know how - Robert Johnson is a blues musician.)

Hellhound on my trail, through travels across dust and dirt plains, reaching for the horizon and a hope that comes with its end.
Solemn eyes framed in a head of leather, worn down by sun's searching face and smoke ushering forth the only sign of life from windows otherwise drawn shut.
What apocalypse can you tell me of?
What scars are hidden across the black soil of your skin? Arid. Sold across the plains of your face, the soul you sold for the legend now wailing in my ears. Recite to me my fears Robert Johnson, play to me until the darkness clears and we can continue to the end.

[k-j]

Hello,

I like this a lot. It really reeks of the blues; it reads a lot like a psalm or prayer and as such rings perfectly with the Robert Johnson mythology. It's great that you mention the crossroads only obliquely.

There are some superb turns of phrase - "solemn eyes framed in a head of leather", "the black soil of your skin", "the legend now wailing in my ears". I love the thumping chime of "ears" / "fears" / "clears" which drives the poem to its conclusion.

A few things sound a little strange to me:

- "horizon's finish" seems very abstract - not sure what you mean by that, so maybe clarify the phrase.
- "suns" ought to be "sun's" I think.
- "parched" and "arid" mean the same thing, don't they? No need for both.

But overall it's a really rich piece of writing. Give us another.

[hello]

Im glad somebody decided to give me some advice Thanks I totally missed the parched and arid thing so thanks for that as well as the grammatical error.
as for the horizon I was pushing towards an end that seemed to stretch far off but was really never there, like a journey without end. dunno if that clarifies.

[k-j]

Hello, thank you for posting something fresh-sounding and original.

as for the horizon I was pushing towards an end that seemed to stretch far off but was really never there, like a journey without end. dunno if that clarifies.

Yeah, I see what you mean. But don't explain it to me in a comment, change the poem so it's clearer. Seems to me that just "horizon" would be clearer than "horizon's finish". Anyway, your call.

[cameron]

Hi hello and welcome aboard.

What you've written here would normally be called a prose poem. To turn it into a poem-poem you simply need to break the lines up into smaller chunks and perhaps arrange them in stanzas.

I think the subject matter is full of potential and could be expanded a lot. Have you ever read/heard Dylan's stuff about Woody Guthrie?

I Believe I'll Dust My Broom - what a great title for a song. Must buy his CD soon.

Cheers
Cam

[hello]

ye I've heard of Dylans admiration for woody i like dylan alot, but I've not really read any of the stuff you're talkin bout but it sounds interesting, I'm kind of a shallow fan I guess,

Thanks alot I might stick with the prose style then learn about the others from your tutorials.

[cameron]

Check out this post on the music/song lyric forum.

viewtopic.php?t=822

[Bombadil]

Welcome hello.

A good, different if nothing else, first post.

It's funny, I was just scribbling a hell hound poem myself yesterday, with the mighty Mr. Johnson in mind. Good to find a fellow blues traveler.

Cheers,

Bombadil

[hello]

thanks bomb, im interested in your version - show me how its done

[Bombadil]

I abstain.

If it were any good, I would have posted it yesterday.