12 Comments

My favorite part:

Everybody tells the truth to you

Just in their own way

No one’s “truth” will be exactly the same…

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Should be soundtrack for a Dylan movie . . .

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Absolute beaut

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What I’d like to know is if Judson wrote this poem before or after the photo was taken; because he sure looks hammered. 😎

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Ha. I wrote the poem years after the photo, in Brasil!

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My guess is the aura caught in the photo may have eventually led to the feelings in the poem.

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I Love your work

It makes my heart sing

Do you write everyday all day long

Or just when your spirit comes to bring?

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I know it can’t be true

But in my mind I can see you

Playing with your lighter

And bangin’ it out

On an Underwood typewriter

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So beautiful...

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Birth of a Political Junkie

Jane and I watched Psycho, soap operas,

Oblivious Trade buildings crumbling,

Falling. We then went to

One of her favorite spots, a biker bar

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I’m no music major but the universe strings reach me to tug me with words that sing I believe a hopeful tune.

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A certain understanding of beings, our lives, our tribulations, some futility?

I like, to understand even a little of a poem is important for me. Express his vision, his feelings, not only by words juxtaposed, which we wonder what is the global meaning, the subject...less relevant for non-poets.

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