Discussion:
The Ride (Combat Zone) / Will Dockery
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Will Dockery
2016-03-16 19:44:13 UTC
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"Bill Evans" wrote in message news:***@mariposabill.com...

"Will Dockery" <***@outlook.com> posted the final
version of "The Ride (Combat Zone).

Will, I'm not sufficiently educated or experienced in giving
a useful critique of this poem; I'll bet Mike would do a
good job of that.

But it would help me if you could explain a couple of
things. Asking them will make me look like a silly fool,
but I'm down with that.

I look at "Rastas" and think, huh? Does this refer to
Rastafarians, those mild-mannered pot-smoking laid-back
folks from Jamaica? Can that be right? What am I missing?

And what is meant by "black" in "black pigs of poetry"?
--
Bill Evans / Box 1224 / Mariposa, CA 95338 / (209)742-4720
Mail-To: ***@acm.org -- PGP encrypted mail preferred. --
pgpkey.mariposabill.com for public key. Key #: 8D8B521B
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Bill, hopefully by the time you retun I will have this information, based on
a Bob Marley interview from the late 1970s... which seems to have never been
posted online.
Will Dockery
2016-11-21 15:34:10 UTC
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version of "The Ride (Combat Zone).

Will, I'm not sufficiently educated or experienced in giving
a useful critique of this poem; I'll bet Mike would do a
good job of that.

But it would help me if you could explain a couple of
things. Asking them will make me look like a silly fool,
but I'm down with that.

I look at "Rastas" and think, huh? Does this refer to
Rastafarians, those mild-mannered pot-smoking laid-back
folks from Jamaica? Can that be right? What am I missing?

And what is meant by "black" in "black pigs of poetry"?
--
Bill Evans / Box 1224 / Mariposa, CA 95338 / (209)742-4720
Mail-To: ***@acm.org -- PGP encrypted mail preferred. --
pgpkey.mariposabill.com for public key. Key #: 8D8B521B
PGPprint: 0A9C 3545 8FFF 7501 6265 1519 40FF 76F9 8D8B 521B

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Getting back to this question of the Rastaman, this poem tells the same
story from a different angle:

A Convolution in Her

As you fly in your
little red space station
remember me.

Harmonic Fractal Convolution.

We both had our high tech cars
Plymouth.

Patriotic emblems
mojo rise
drink some medicine.

This torrid confederacy
this torn nation
you tickled my back with fingernails
politicians making offers.

You fly in your little red satellite
a country doctor's job
mixing medicine
between jaunts in the solar system.

A pimp Rastaman forcing me to sacrifice
held Raine for a human ransom
another crew member disappeared.

And I flew off to let her sit
I went off into space
with a gold robot bird.

Undercover
crash down
a small little ghost story in Summerville.

Thunderbag in trouble again
dark castle in bright hot Lee County.

Wiped out, crashed out
low expectations
it's to the point
where I wish I'd never admitted loving you.

But I still do.

Harmonic Fractal Convolution.

Great expectations
pink dawn glistens
she stopped for years in 1992
my hot breeze seemed to awaken her.

Pookie and Puck and Dark Man
your friends in need, night visitors.

A madman with stolen phasers
he interviewed the suspects
and fell in love again.

Zapping down the crewmen
forget me not beautiful friend.

Harmonic Fractal Convolution
outside Shadowville
are the castles where
we discussed the catastrophe.

He creates artificial
fractal ice crystals
blind eye for hire
I hunt the sphere of destiny.

Crazy, crashed down
her tits like ripe melons
she says they should
kill the Christ Buddha.

People on the coast
a desperado in green
the rat pack met the wise guys
she is the go-between.

Look at the ocean so silver
watch the black cat run.

Kittens walk on her back
she lay naked, open wide
she has night eyes
a late night itch.

The Dark Man stalks so quiet and bold.

I am by the trees waiting
I feel fear and loathing.

Once a thief
runs
his fingers into her charms
she carried his red mark.

Can't hardly wait
crashed out
city sins and a wide open country.

Broadway runaround
trigger effect
you make me wait forever.

A convoluted ceremony of pleasure
bringing bad things
the human drive
to create new life.

Like mosquitoes we suck and
stuff your dark hungers.

This could be done
many things
but he just don't care
because he can't
fall for that again.

Seems like a nice guy
and may very well be
let time work a slow spell
this can be so easy
just open up.

Coming around again
got the look of love.
Why this story
it's only bad because I know.

What set up
can this accomplish?

How about a new scene
one that don't
involve our distances.

How about a new dream
a couple of free instances
a plagiarized scream.

He got himself
a simple twist of fate,
provides the code words
got the look.

Making the rounds
music, muse and mane.
She's organizing furniture
plain and discarded pain.

She comes late
she comes loud with an echo.

Coming around again
it's funny
the night glistens.

He's a security guard at a
rainbow dream-town storage unit
the sound in the night
she comes late.

I hear footsteps, a simulation
familiar
ringing on wood.

Woodgrain beckons me now at this point
hazel
green
razor
stare
got the look of love for him.

There's a green leafed twig
to let him know the color coded
message
later she comes again.

Coming around again
got that devouring green eyed look again
by candle light
at the storage unit.

My mind's eye sees
sees
coming around again.

-Will Dockery
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And Bill Evans... hope you will return to our groups soon.

:)
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