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Sat 30 Aug, 2003 05:49 am
This is where I saw that deer, that time. I wrote about it, I remember.
That other time. Feels like long ago. But I remember.
At the edge of the woods, right here, down the path.
Except I was looking from the other side,
walking down the other path.
It was pretty. It was a pretty evening, balmy, late.
Its pretty now, too.
Pretty.
(Purr-tee). (Repeats to himself: "purr-tee".)
(Can hear himself say it. The voice of a little boy.).
Rabbit!
There, I saw a rabbit - two! Two rabbits, wait, there goes another one,
running, look at them run –
they’re big! They’re huge.
Wabbit.
I sa-aw a wabbit ... I sa-aw a wa-abbit … Run.
Gone. I think he’s gone.
(Repeats to himself:) I sa-aw a wa-abbit …
Silence.
I think there’s more.
Is that a rabbit?
I think so … Those are his ears! That's trippy. Two ears.
Two ears in the grass.
He’s sitting very still.
Yup, it’s a rabbit. Looking at me.
That’s so cute. Lets watch. See what happens. Wait.
He’s really looking at me, I think.
I’m looking right back. Motionlessly.
Well, here I am. Look at me.
Here I am, standing guard over a rabbit, leaning over my bike.
Leaning against my bike.
You’re not moving a hair, are you?
Nothing.
<grins>.
(Waits.)
Dumdeedum, I’m staring at a rabbit.
He’s staring back at me.
Nothing to report here, sir. No, sir! Rabbit under control, sir!
I am this rabbit’s personal body guard. Won’t let you out of my sight.
Your friends are all over there, don’t you know?
There, on that side of the field.
Won’t you run?
Nope.
Nothing happening.
Staring eye-to-eye with a rabbit.
I shouldn’t chase him. That wouldn’t be nice. It’s just ten steps away,
but that includes a ditch.
Rabbit. R-rabbit. Rr-rabbit.
If I take just this one step – into these plants – I could balance, hand on tree,
and look at you some more.
I could, huh?
<Steps> – whoa, holy – that’s deep! Oy -
Better step back, around the tree, behind
and now, if I stand there –
Gone!
Rabbit’s gone.
Where’d it go?
<Looks>.
Rab-bit … Rabbit?
Not a sight. Nowhere.
Just grass and flowers, to the left -
to the right.
Rabbit’s gone.
Bunny.
Bunny’s gone.
Bunny. Buh-nee.
Buh-nee.
No more bunny.
Buh-nee.
(Hears himself say it. The voice of a kid. Of a little girl. Or like repeating it to the little girl.)
Buh-nee.
Where are you, bunny?
He’s gone.
Nothing here. No more.
I’d better go ..
I guess I should better go …
(Speaks out loud:) Bunny’s gone, and he won’t come back.
Bu-hnee?
Bunny’s gone, Bunny won’t come back.
Sterre’s gone.
Sterre won’t come back.
Jilly’s gone, Jilly won’t come back.
Jilly’s go-one … Jilly wont come ba-ack … (Whispers).
Susanna-ah’s gone, Sus-annah won’t come back …
(Sing-songs to the little girl. To the little boy’s voice. In the little boy's voice.)
Uncle Jan’s gone, Uncle Jan won’t come back …
Grandpa’s gone, grandpa won’t come back.
Grandma-a’s gone, grandma-a won’t come back.
(Nods).
Marieke’s mommy’s gone, and she won’t come back.
Marieke’s daddy’s gone, and he won’t come back.
(Hesitates:) Tineke’s gone, Tineke won’t come back.
Tineke’s gone, and Tineke won’t come back.
Mamma’s gone … Mamma won’t come back.
May Day’s gone, May Day won’t come back.
The Clash have gone – the Plein has gone …
Punk was when I was seven
When I was seven …
When I was ten
I dreamt last night about being ten.
The sun is setting
that’s pretty.
Purr-tee.
(Whispers:) Purr-tee.
(In someone else’s, remembered, Southern drawl of a voice:) “That’s purtee!”. (Smiles).
(Falls silent again)
Sterre’s gone, and she won’t come back.
Jilly’s gone, and she won’t come back.
Tineke’s gone, and she won’t come back.
They’re gone.
Bunny too.
Rabbit’s gone.
(Stares).
I’d better go.
30 May 2003, revised 30 August
Hey, that's great stuff. Grim but great, and making no allowance for working in English.
roger wrote:Hey, that's great stuff. Grim but great, and making no allowance for working in English.
yeh ... foreign language is hard <nods>.
its kinda long, huh?
i guess, if you dont read it to the end, you have to wonder what the **** its all about. (and theres lots of reason to not get to the end).
its really nothing like a poem or anything like that <nods>.
I'd say it is poem I mean god dam it ever read ginsberg or E E Cummings there are so many different ways of writing poetry and thats what makes me dig yours! I mean check out Saul Williams or Ursula Rocca too, your poem would make great slam or spoken word.
There is something original to it like how you revert to a child like state to deal with loss or what you were once told or once experienced came rushing back to you due to some new experience. It's like the first time you experience loss, the rabbit and it reflects in everything else great metaphor i love it and one of the best poems so far.
manges to create a sense of "wow that was some thing it spoke to me " i think the beat generation would have been proud of that one.
BIG UP NIMH
it transcends context and culture and age.
thanks, tagged. ppreciate it. <smiles>