Discussion:
Behind the Forest / a poem by Will Dockery
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Will Dockery
2014-02-11 08:01:04 UTC
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"Behind The Forest", was written by me over a decade ago.

Some of the timestamped and dated information on my poem "Behind The
Forest":

Behind The Forest. by Will Dockery - Google Groups
Google Groups
Aug 24, 2003 - Behind The Forest. Under the tent, can't describe this light.
Under the black base are blue and red shadows. The ink glistens, silvery
like tiny ...

Behind The Forest. by Will Dockery - Google Groups
Google Groups Jan 1, 2014 - Behind The Forest. by Will Dockery, Will
Dockery, 8/24/03 11:39 PM. Behind The Forest. Under the tent, can't describe
this light. Under the ...

Re: Behind The Forest / Will Dockery - Google Groups
Google Groups Jan 2, 2014 - "Peter J Ross" <***@homeridae.org> wrote in
message news:***@homeri dae.org ... > In alt.arts.poetry.com
ments on Wed, 1 Jan ...

And the Playgrounds Magazine issue in 2005 I published the poem in:

----
To The Magic Store by Will Dockery

[Playgrounds Magazine, April 2005]

"But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every
moon
is atrocious and every sun bitter..." -Arthur Rimbaud

Passings and Arrivals:

I stopped by Isis House recently, and Norma told me that Smiley [Earl
Parrish] has died.

Literally hundreds of memories, all happy, many hilarious of *our*, and
certainly one of the last, true Southern Gentlemen, come to mind, some
of
the best:

Smiley's poem, "Georgia":

"From the shores of the Atlantic,
To the banks of the Chattahoochie...
It's Geeeeeorrrr-gia..."

That he often read at the original poetry open mics.

His excellent reditions of show-tunes, and his show-stopper versions of
"Somewhere Over The Rainbow" and "Don't Sit Under The Apple Tree With
Anyone
Else But Me".

"And lots of other things..." -Johnny Cash.

<snip>

A poem from different, and simpler, times:

----
Behind The Forest.

Under the tent,
can't describe this light.
Under the black base are blue and red shadows.
The ink glistens, silvery like tiny mercury.

Working to purity,
music and words and sweat.
No tears.
Forget tommorow.
Let go the problems in time.

Sun bleached cure,
the addiction does not hold me,
as the drugs,
human drugs,
create the sound.
Saint Augustine night, moon mother smiles.

Catch the flow,
it may never be back again, though possible.
Poetic form disintegrates,
quit cold turkey,
so I can find what I have lost.
Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

The facist doctors are no match for the
old man with beads.
Double digeridoo warble,
aboriginal soul hum.
Sweat, blue meets red.
Let it drop for peace of mind.

Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
through the breeze...
words about money float by.
Hope springs eternal
as long as the well ain't dry.

-Will Dockery

That's it for now, take care, and email your Smiley memories for next
issue's rememberance of this Shadowville legend, now passed.
----

And so it goes.
Will Dockery
2014-02-15 16:19:37 UTC
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Why is this not in the Library of Congress? Why? Why? Why?
So that's where you've been, troll: frantically combing through the LoC.
Here's a clue for you: the LoC archives books, not individual poems. Now,
with some luck, you have one, anyway.
And so it goes...
Will Dockery
2016-03-16 18:14:39 UTC
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Behind The Forest.

Under the tent
can't describe this light.
Under the black base
are blue and red shadows.
The ink glistens
silvery like tiny mercury.

Working to purity
music and words and sweat.
No tears.
Forget tommorow.
Let go the problems in time.

Sun bleached cure
the addiction does not hold me
as the drugs
human drugs
create the sound.
Saint Augustine night
moon mother smiles.

Catch the flow
it may never be back again, though possible.
Poetic form disintegrates
quit cold turkey,
so I can find what I have lost.
Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

The facist doctors
are no match for the
old man with beads.
Double digeridoo warble
aboriginal soul hum.
Sweat, blue meets red.
Let it drop for peace of mind.

Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
through the breeze...
words about money float by.
Hope springs eternal
as long as the well ain't dry.

-Will Dockery

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