August 08, 2008
Friday Poem
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Too Late, and Too Long...
Oh Yes
Charles Bukowski
there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
than
too late.
from Mississippi
Bob Dylan
The emptiness is endless, cold as the clay
You can always come back,
but you can't come back all the way
Only one thing I did wrong
Stayed in Mississippi a day too long.
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Posted by Jim Culleny at 10:17 AM | Permalink









Comments
Great post. Here's to more daily poems in this direction.
Posted by: JudasConstant | Aug 8, 2008 10:30:55 AM
What appeals to you, the poems, their linked-up presentation, the poets?
Posted by: Jim | Aug 8, 2008 10:47:06 AM
Damn that Bukowski! Could he be more on target?
Posted by: Nancy | Aug 8, 2008 1:43:43 PM
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