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Joined: Dec 2000
Posts: 298
Top 500 Poster
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OP
Top 500 Poster
Joined: Dec 2000
Posts: 298 |
I WAS A TEENAGE FOLKSINGER
I was once a human scarecrow upon a cherry farm On a tower with a shotgun didn't mean to do no harm How that cow got in the air eludes me to this day So many things I would have done but cows got in the way
I was a teenage folksinger with a wretched poetry coat It was tie-dye bleached and the lousy stuff I wrote Was written in the lining so I’d often bare my soul O is it any wonder my work was shot full of holes
My life has been a travesty of one florescent hue Ever since I sawed that old green nickel guitar in two Being tipped off to the perils of standing in canoes My days of building castles in quicksand all are through
I was a teenage folksinger with a wretched poetry coat...
I was once a world-class clown who broke the golden rule So don't ask me how or why I took that skunk to school Being forced to play ice hockey I was quite a lousy skater But excelled with my ground breaking job as a jackhammer operator
I was a teenage folksinger with a wretched poetry coat...
I sat atop the upright grand banging chords out with my feet And my version of “Cold Turkey” was heard halfway down the street At school the glee club’s sponsor accused me of being “off key” In numerous humorous doomsday ditties all devoid of glee
I was a teenage folksinger with a wretched poetry coat...
© 2005 Stefan des Lauriers  
[This message has been edited by Stefan des Lauriers (edited 09-05-2006).]
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Joined: Sep 2006
Posts: 1,633
Top 200 Poster
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Top 200 Poster
Joined: Sep 2006
Posts: 1,633 |
Howdy Stefan, I love this all the way. Post a link when you get music I'd love to hear it sung No nits Cheers
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Joined: Aug 2003
Posts: 10,690
Top 10 Poster
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Top 10 Poster
Joined: Aug 2003
Posts: 10,690 |
Stefan!!!
Simply spectacular!
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Joined: Dec 2000
Posts: 298
Top 500 Poster
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OP
Top 500 Poster
Joined: Dec 2000
Posts: 298 |
hi Noel and Sweetjoyce
Thanks
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Joined: Mar 2005
Posts: 3,639
Top 100 Poster
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Top 100 Poster
Joined: Mar 2005
Posts: 3,639 |
It's a funny idea. The "Cows got in my way" cracked me up. Some of the references I don't quite understand, not that it is important- just curious.
"Imagination is more important than knowledge." - Albert Einstein
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Joined: Dec 2000
Posts: 298
Top 500 Poster
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OP
Top 500 Poster
Joined: Dec 2000
Posts: 298 |
hi Nashvillecat
When men first landed on the moon, I was working as an armed human scarecrow at a cherry farm. My alleged duty was to sit on top of a rickety tower and scare the birds with a shotgun. To look the part I would often wear my poetry coat.
My poetry coat had humble beginnings as a navy blue overcoat in the Salvation Army. I tie dye bleached it and inscribed poems in the faded blotches. The poems were kept on the inside, it being a time when I still had some modesty and occasionally opened up to bare my soul.
Sometimes I would employ the poetry coat as my phantom surrogate. Using a water cooler in place of my head, I would put a straw hat on it, and place it where the railing converged. Then I'd prop up a crate and drape my coat with the shotgun holding the arms on the railing, thereby creating the illusion of being on the job.
The only difference between an actual scarecrow and a human scarecrow is the human element. By removing the human element I was able to come down to earth and do nefarious things, such as sneak up on my friend Michael in his nearby tower.
During the evening when flocks of starlings flew high overhead some of the young charges would blast their way through high heaven. Of course we were supposed to just scare the birds and not kill them. Nothing in the job description, however, specifically stated that we shouldn't perforate our fellow workers.
So it was with quiet abandon that I made my usual climb up Michael's tower. The towers had a tendency to sway when mounted, so it was difficult to ascend in a stealthy manner. Approaching the last few rungs I heard a volley of shots. Michael peered over the edge. "Now Stefan," he said, "I knew you were up to something when I saw that crow land on your hat."
Upon returning to my tower I was shocked to see what had happened in my absence. My beloved poetry coat had been shot full of holes. I opened the walking anthology, and saw how a fine spray had decimated my precious lyrics. Looking through the holes I came to the sad realization that there were words missing from some of my poems. And that was the first time it occurred to me that I should edit my work.
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