Thursday, June 30, 2005

Three Hundred Miles Away

And before the morning comes
I am three hundred miles away
You promised not to leave me
I promised not to stay

You thought that you could hold me
But I get restless when things get ‘same’
And though I know you love me
I had to change pace anyway

I’m driving into the sunrise
Leaving the clouds behind
Never looking backwards
Seeking only why I find

I thought to leave a note
But then I thought again
There’s so much I want to say
That you wouldn’t understand

So maybe I’ll stop by
If I happen back this way
To let you know I still love you
Even though I slipped away

I’m running headlong into tomorrow
Chasing the new day
And all I’m really looking for
Is whatever comes my way


-Jn 06-20-05
San Pedro Sula Airport

5 comments:

Ramblin' Ed said...

I think I lost the 2 big books of all the stuff I wrote beween ages 16 and about 23. There was a LOT of stuff. Too bad, if I had them I think I could back up what I'm going to say next.

This is very much something I might have written Theme wise, it is 100% the way I would go. A wandering type. Easy to love, hard to hold. Yeah, I feel it too, but it still can't make me stay.

Wording is also very much something I could see me doing. Samples of this are:

You promised not to leave me
I promised not to stay

Never looking backwards
Seeking only why I find

and,

I thought to leave a note
But then I thought again

So, I guess what I'm saying is that I like it a lot. But for a reason that goes deeper than just the poem.

You are well on your way. You have had a childhood that includes both stability and travel. While I can't speak to this, you have/are gonna have and lose some lovers. You're gonna do more than walk through life. You're going to soak up life as you live it.

And that's what excites me. Knowing that what you are doing now will become more complex, more fleshed out and more vibrant as you go. And you'll know it, too. One day you'll be eating a fajita in a small cantina near Old San Juan, you'll write what you're thinking on the back of the only thing you have handy, say a shopping bag, then when you transcribe it proper you'll read it back and go, "Wow. That's really a whole new level. It's really good."

I hope to share some of that as you go, so DON'T STOP BLOGGING THEM.

(Oh, and tell you mom to get hot. She's slacking since she got back. But do it nicely.)

Ed

Coal Miner's Daughter said...

I have a little book called Aerie (or something with a similar spelling) that I stole from SK when she got it back from her grandma. I like it very much though no one i have ever shared it with seems to apriciated it half as much as I want them too. It happens to feature some things SK and friend wrote between the ages of oh lets say 16-18. I flip through it when I feel like I need to write something but have nothing to say. Its soothing in that way. And I know these things that you say about me are true and it is both scary and exciting but I can already look around and say yes he is right and it is happening. Its nice to be right in the middle of life when you actually really feel like you are living.

As for the mother. She is working her butt off- or something very like that. She falls asleep before I do and while she does get up pretty early she can't get my computer on the internet so she hasnt messed with it. She will have stories I am sure when she gets back home.

Ramblin' Ed said...

I am willing to patient for stories. Nothing good comes from rushing sk, and I know that as a hard learned lesson.

But where, pray tell, IS MY FISH PICTURE ??

Cordially your'n,
Ed

Coal Miner's Daughter said...

We are home. . . fish once I download the pictures to this computer.

Ramblin' Ed said...

OK....I suppose I can wait. But don't forget the red hat. You know, for my patience and all.
Ed