The Marathon
The start was delayed,
the gunshot was sluggish, too;
it had been raining.
Some of them fell hard,
some didn’t even get up,
while few ran away;
they strayed from the path.
The others kept their heads down,
going for the line.
They followed the road,
over mountains and rivers
until they were lost
in a wave of sand
that stole all their spare water;
foaming at the mouth.
Going their own ways,
‘The Strayed Ones’ found paradise,
and no finish line.
- Ramon's blog
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Comments
Ramon
A metaphor on life too, perhaps? Although that is too depressing for words. Ramon, you really write the most beautiful and thought provoking poetry.
Definitely Lily.
That's what it's about; Life.
Thank you for the comment.
This reminds me of war, Ramon
Soldiers in battle.
Super metaphor.
Arb.
Didn't even think of that; interesting interpretation that makes a hell lot of sense. Thank you.
Ramon
So beautifully reminiscent of Frost's "the road less traveled", which may sound like an insult because that has become such a cliche in itself. But that shouldn't rob it of it's stature and beauty. I've always love Frost's "The Road Not Taken", how majestically it speaks to life, how difficult this concept is to capture in words because it is so quintessential to the common human experience. When I read your poetry I use the word love. More and more I use the word love. I suppose because it speaks to me. It resonates so deeply with that which lives withing me.
I love your writing Ramon.
Frankly.
Shit. And there I thought I'd written something 'original'.
Best look up Frost then...Full name, please?
Ag, Franky; I've challenged myself. A poem a day. From the deepest darkest parts of what I am. Because that's what I am and nothing else.
'Strayed One', I am.
Hoping.
Hoping there's no finish line.
Thank you.
Ramon
My comment had nothing to do with originality. Rather to point out that you are writing about something archetypal, common to all people. And the poet is Robert Frost. You can read that poem here:
http://www.bartleby.com/119/1.html
Love it. It's one of my favourites.
Frals
Have to say that it's one of my favourites too.
Gotcha, Frankly.
Thanks for that.
And we
the lucky recipients, I hope.
Ramon (and everyone else here)...I'm sometimes awed by what we share in this space. By how raw it is, sometimes. Maybe that's why it gets a little weird sometimes. That we know so much about each other, yet nothing at all. What a gift, hey? This strange little band of travellers.
Dolce.
I wonder if I sometimes share too much, Dolce. You know?
But ja, definitely one of the stranger little corners in cyber space.
I like this place.
I donno R
perhaps we have to, to keep being honest. Which is why it all goes quiet sometimes. Because people get scared. We almost know each other too well now...the walls start to come back up. Which is why, even when I write something that is too raw, too close, I post it and leave it. Because what happens here is alchemy. And I almost always end up feeling better.
Blogging as therapy, I guess. BP loves that idea. Ha ha.
True, Dolce.
Maybe we have to. Maybe, deep down, we really want to because no one else will listen anyway. It's hapened to me a lot recently; opening up and people just going 'yeah, yeah, yeah'. This includes family members I'd always considered 'important.'
Ja, life, hey. I could write a book, but wording it would be next to impossible...
Haha Ramoana
yeah.
No one but these sad fuckers to listen to us bleat and pontificate.
Thank god we've got each other hey?
*weep*