Behind the Forest / a poem by Will Dockery

[Will Dockery]

"Behind The Forest", was written by me over a decade ago.

Some of the timestamped and dated information on my poem "Behind The
Forest":

Behind The Forest. by Will Dockery - Google Groups
Google Groups
Aug 24, 2003 - Behind The Forest. Under the tent, can't describe this light.
Under the black base are blue and red shadows. The ink glistens, silvery
like tiny ...

Behind The Forest. by Will Dockery - Google Groups
Google Groups Jan 1, 2014 - Behind The Forest. by Will Dockery, Will
Dockery, 8/24/03 11:39 PM. Behind The Forest. Under the tent, can't describe
this light. Under the ...

Re: Behind The Forest / Will Dockery - Google Groups
Google Groups Jan 2, 2014 - "Peter J Ross" <p...@homeridae.org> wrote in
message news:slrnlc913i.n4m.pjr@homeri dae.org ... > In alt.arts.poetry.com
ments on Wed, 1 Jan ...

And the Playgrounds Magazine issue in 2005 I published the poem in:

----
To The Magic Store by Will Dockery

[Playgrounds Magazine, April 2005]

"But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every
moon
is atrocious and every sun bitter..." -Arthur Rimbaud

Passings and Arrivals:

I stopped by Isis House recently, and Norma told me that Smiley [Earl
Parrish] has died.

Literally hundreds of memories, all happy, many hilarious of *our*, and
certainly one of the last, true Southern Gentlemen, come to mind, some
of
the best:

Smiley's poem, "Georgia":

"From the shores of the Atlantic,
To the banks of the Chattahoochie...
It's Geeeeeorrrr-gia..."

That he often read at the original poetry open mics.

His excellent reditions of show-tunes, and his show-stopper versions of
"Somewhere Over The Rainbow" and "Don't Sit Under The Apple Tree With
Anyone
Else But Me".

"And lots of other things..." -Johnny Cash.

<snip>

A poem from different, and simpler, times:

----
Behind The Forest.

Under the tent,
can't describe this light.
Under the black base are blue and red shadows.
The ink glistens, silvery like tiny mercury.

Working to purity,
music and words and sweat.
No tears.
Forget tommorow.
Let go the problems in time.

Sun bleached cure,
the addiction does not hold me,
as the drugs,
human drugs,
create the sound.
Saint Augustine night, moon mother smiles.

Catch the flow,
it may never be back again, though possible.
Poetic form disintegrates,
quit cold turkey,
so I can find what I have lost.
Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

The facist doctors are no match for the
old man with beads.
Double digeridoo warble,
aboriginal soul hum.
Sweat, blue meets red.
Let it drop for peace of mind.

Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
through the breeze...
words about money float by.
Hope springs eternal
as long as the well ain't dry.

-Will Dockery

That's it for now, take care, and email your Smiley memories for next
issue's rememberance of this Shadowville legend, now passed.
----

And so it goes.

[Will Dockery]

generic wrote in message
news:52fa5ef2$0$61278$c3e8da3$5e5e...@news.astraweb.com...
> On 11-Feb-2014, "Will Dockery" wrote:
>
>> timestamped and dated information
>
> Why is this not in the Library of Congress? Why? Why? Why?
> You couldn't afford the postage, am I right?

Thanks for your intense interest...

[Will Dockery]

"George Dance" <george...@yahoo.ca> wrote in message
news:3e440db5-b682-4445...@googlegroups.com...

> On Tuesday, February 11, 2014 12:33:38 PM UTC-5, gen...@hotmail.com wrote:
>> On 11-Feb-2014, "Will Dockery" wrote:
>>
>>
>> Why is this not in the Library of Congress? Why? Why? Why?
>

> So that's where you've been, troll: frantically combing through the LoC.
> Here's a clue for you: the LoC archives books, not individual poems. Now,
> with some luck, you have one, anyway.

And so it goes...

[Will Dockery]

Behind The Forest.

Under the tent

can't describe this light.
Under the black base
are blue and red shadows.
The ink glistens

silvery like tiny mercury.

Working to purity

music and words and sweat.
No tears.
Forget tommorow.
Let go the problems in time.

Sun bleached cure

the addiction does not hold me

as the drugs
human drugs

create the sound.
Saint Augustine night

moon mother smiles.

Catch the flow

it may never be back again, though possible.
Poetic form disintegrates

quit cold turkey,
so I can find what I have lost.
Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

The facist doctors
are no match for the
old man with beads.
Double digeridoo warble

[Will Dockery]

Behind The Forest

[Will Dockery]

----------------------------------------------

Found in Drafts file.

[W-Dockery]

One of the poems in the Saint Augustine Blues series.

As always, comments and critique are welcome.

🙂

[General-Zod]

>> The fascist doctors

>> are no match for the
>> old man with beads.
>> Double digeridoo warble
>> aboriginal soul hum.
>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>> through the breeze...
>> words about money float by.
>> Hope springs eternal
>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>> -Will Dockery

>> ----------------------------------------------

> One of the poems in the Saint Augustine Blues series.

> As always, comments and critique are welcome.

> 🙂

Outstanding poetry, Doc....

[W-Dockery]

Behind The Forest

I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

[General-Zod]

Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?

Ha ha.

[W-Dockery]

I do.

🙂

[W.Dockery]

Good evening, my friend.

Hope you're having a good one.

[General-Zod]

Quite cool.....

[W-Dockery]

Thanks again for reading and commenting, Zod.

🙂

[General-Zod]

Will Dockery wrote:

> General-Zod wrote:

Good afternoon, enjoying this fine day on the river bank with my friend Mike... he says tell you hello..!

[W.Dockery]

Hello there, my friend, tell Mike hello for me.

🙂

[W-Dockery]

Good morning, Zod, and thanks again for the nod.

🙂

[Rocky Stoneberg]

>> The fascist doctors

>> are no match for the
>> old man with beads.
>> Double digeridoo warble
>> aboriginal soul hum.
>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>> through the breeze...
>> words about money float by.
>> Hope springs eternal
>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>> -Will Dockery

>> ----------------------------------------------

> One of the poems in the Saint Augustine Blues series.

> As always, comments and critique are welcome.

Actually, an all-time favorite...!

[W.Dockery]

Thanks for the nod, Rocky.

🙂

[W.Dockery]

Yes I do.

🙂

[W.Dockery]

Good afternoon and thanks again for the nod, Zod.

:)

[Rocky Stoneberg]

>> The fascist doctors

>> are no match for the
>> old man with beads.
>> Double digeridoo warble
>> aboriginal soul hum.
>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>> through the breeze...
>> words about money float by.
>> Hope springs eternal
>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>> -Will Dockery

>> ----------------------------------------------

> One of the poems in the Saint Augustine Blues series.

> As always, comments and critique are welcome.

> 🙂

Such a vivid evocation of bygone times, very touching...

[W.Dockery]

More like Arnold Horshack in need of a haircut.

🙂

[W-Dockery]

Thanks again for reading and commenting.

[Victor H.]

Good day to you...!

[W-Dockery]

Good evening, my friend.

🙂

[Zod]

Cool back story...

[W-Dockery]

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Behind The Forest

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.

>>> Forget tomorrow.

>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>> Sun bleached cure
>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>> as the drugs
>>> human drugs
>>> create the sound.
>>> Saint Augustine night
>>> moon mother smiles.

>>> Catch the flow
>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>> quit cold turkey,
>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>> The fascist doctors

>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=


> Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?

> Ha ha.

More like Arnold Horshack.

🙂

[W-Dockery]

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>>> Behind The Forest.

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.

>>> Forget tomorrow.

Thanks, I was working on a high level at that time, don't remember the exact date for it, Summer 1997 basically.

[W-Dockery]

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Behind The Forest

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.

>>> Forget tomorrow.

>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>> Sun bleached cure
>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>> as the drugs
>>> human drugs
>>> create the sound.
>>> Saint Augustine night
>>> moon mother smiles.

>>> Catch the flow
>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>> quit cold turkey,
>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>> The fascist doctors

>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=


> Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?

> Ha ha.

"Oh, Mr. Kotter..."

https://www.facebook.com/groups/105463832836304/permalink/5326840010698634/

🙂

[General-Zod]

Fine series...

[General-Zod]

Will Dockery wrote:
>
> Behind The Forest

>> Under the tent
>> can't describe this light.
>> Under the black base
>> are blue and red shadows.
>> The ink glistens
>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>> Working to purity
>> music and words and sweat.
>> No tears.

>> Forget tomorrow.

>> Let go the problems in time.

>> Sun bleached cure
>> the addiction does not hold me
>> as the drugs
>> human drugs
>> create the sound.
>> Saint Augustine night
>> moon mother smiles.

>> Catch the flow
>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>> Poetic form disintegrates
>> quit cold turkey,
>> so I can find what I have lost.
>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>> The fascist doctors

>> are no match for the
>> old man with beads.
>> Double digeridoo warble
>> aboriginal soul hum.
>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>> through the breeze...
>> words about money float by.
>> Hope springs eternal
>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>> -Will Dockery

>> ----------------------------------------------

> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

Cool back story and photograph...!

[W-Dockery]

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>>> Behind The Forest.

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.

>>> Forget tomorrow.

Thanks again for the nod, and hope you and Mike are having a great weekend.

🙂

[W-Dockery]

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Behind The Forest

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.

>>> Forget tomorrow.

>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>> Sun bleached cure
>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>> as the drugs
>>> human drugs
>>> create the sound.
>>> Saint Augustine night
>>> moon mother smiles.

>>> Catch the flow
>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>> quit cold turkey,
>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>> The fascist doctors

>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=


> Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?

> Ha ha.

Yeah, right.

🙂

[General-Zod]

A fave for a while now...

[W-Dockery]

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Behind The Forest

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.

>>> Forget tommorow.

>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>> Sun bleached cure
>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>> as the drugs
>>> human drugs
>>> create the sound.
>>> Saint Augustine night
>>> moon mother smiles.

>>> Catch the flow
>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>> quit cold turkey,
>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>> The facist doctors

>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

> Cool times

Yes, they were.

[General-Zod]

Will Dockery wrote:
>
>> Behind The Forest.

> One of the poems in the Saint Augustine Blues series.

> As always, comments and critique are welcome.

> 🙂

One of the great ones....

[W-Dockery]

>>> The fascist doctors

>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> One of the poems in the Saint Augustine Blues series.

>> As always, comments and critique are welcome.

>> 🙂

> Outstanding poetry, Doc....

Good evening, thanks again.

[Family Guy]

REPORTED TO THE INTERNET POLICE AS SPAM

[W-Dockery]

Troll much, Dink?

[W-Dockery]

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>>> Behind The Forest.

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.

>>> Forget tomorrow.

Good morning, my friend, thanks again.

[W-Dockery]

Thanks again, Zod.

[W-Dockery]

Good morning, thanks again.

🙂

[W-Dockery]

[W.Dockery]

>>>> Behind The Forest

Thanks to Jim Senetto for reading and commenting.

🙂

[Victor H.]

He did...???

[W.Dockery]

Jim Senetto is going through my poetry making selections, which I'm revising and posting on the Shadowville Mythos blog.

🙂

[General-Zod]

> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

You captured the moment well...

[W-Dockery]

Good evening, thanks.

[W-Dockery]

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>> Behind The Forest

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.

>>> Forget tommorow.

>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>> Sun bleached cure
>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>> as the drugs
>>> human drugs
>>> create the sound.
>>> Saint Augustine night
>>> moon mother smiles.

>>> Catch the flow
>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>> quit cold turkey,
>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>> The facist doctors

>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

> Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?

> Ha ha.

Well...

🙂

[W-Dockery]

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>

>>> Behind The Forest.

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.
>>> Forget tommorow.
>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>> Sun bleached cure
>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>> as the drugs
>>> human drugs
>>> create the sound.
>>> Saint Augustine night
>>> moon mother smiles.

>>> Catch the flow
>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>> quit cold turkey,
>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>> The fascist doctors

>>> are no match for the
>>> old man with beads.
>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>> through the breeze...
>>> words about money float by.
>>> Hope springs eternal
>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>> -Will Dockery

>>> ----------------------------------------------

>> One of the poems in the Saint Augustine Blues series.

>> As always, comments and critique are welcome.

>


> Outstanding poetry, Doc....

Hello there, thanks again for the nod.

🙂

[General-Zod]

Will Dockery wrote:
>
>> Behind The Forest.

>> Under the tent
>> can't describe this light.
>> Under the black base
>> are blue and red shadows.
>> The ink glistens
>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>> Working to purity
>> music and words and sweat.
>> No tears.

>> Forget tomorrow.

> 🙂


Having another read, quite enjoyed...!

[W-Dockery]

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>>> Behind The Forest.

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.

>>> Forget tommorow.

> Outstanding poetry, Doc....


Thanks again for the nod, Zod.

🙂

[W-Dockery]

Hey there, happy holidays.

🙂

[General-Zod]

Will Dockery wrote:

>> Behind The Forest.
>
>> Under the tent
>> can't describe this light.
>> Under the black base
>> are blue and red shadows.
>> The ink glistens
>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>> Working to purity
>> music and words and sweat.
>> No tears.

>> Forget tomorrow.

> 🙂


Second read... quite lovely...

[W-Dockery]

[General-Zod]

Up to read seven or eight, still finding wonders in this one....

[W.Dockery]

Good morning, glad it works for you.

🙂

[W.Dockery]

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>>> Behind The Forest.

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.

>>> Forget tommorow.

>> 🙂


> Outstanding poetry, Doc....

Good afternoon, Zod, y'all having the usual Friday fish fry bonfire party at the camp tonight?

I can't make it but hope it goes well.

;)

[W.Dockery]

Good morning my friend and again, thanks for the nod.

🙂

[General-Zod]

Will Dockery wrote:
>
>> Behind The Forest.

>> Under the tent
>> can't describe this light.
>> Under the black base
>> are blue and red shadows.
>> The ink glistens
>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>> Working to purity
>> music and words and sweat.
>> No tears.

>> Forget tomorrow.

>> Let go the problems in time.

>> Sun bleached cure
>> the addiction does not hold me
>> as the drugs
>> human drugs
>> create the sound.
>> Saint Augustine night
>> moon mother smiles.

>> Catch the flow
>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>> Poetic form disintegrates
>> quit cold turkey,
>> so I can find what I have lost.
>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>> The fascist doctors

>> are no match for the
>> old man with beads.
>> Double digeridoo warble
>> aboriginal soul hum.
>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>> through the breeze...
>> words about money float by.
>> Hope springs eternal
>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>> -Will Dockery

>> ----------------------------------------------

> One of the poems in the Saint Augustine Blues series.

> As always, comments and critique are welcome.

As I have declared, this os one of your all-time greatest, Doc....

[W.Dockery]

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>
>>> Behind The Forest.

>>> Under the tent
>>> can't describe this light.
>>> Under the black base
>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>> The ink glistens
>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>> Working to purity
>>> music and words and sweat.
>>> No tears.

>>> Forget tommorow.

> Outstanding poetry, Doc....


Good afternoon, thanks again for reading and commenting.

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[W-Dockery]

Thanks again for reading and commenting.

:)

[W.Dockery]

Good afternoon, thanks again.

[General-Zod]

Will Dockery wrote:

> General-Zod wrote:

>> Will Dockery wrote:
>>>
>>> Behind The Forest

>>>> Under the tent
>>>> can't describe this light.
>>>> Under the black base
>>>> are blue and red shadows.
>>>> The ink glistens
>>>> silvery like tiny mercury.

>>>> Working to purity
>>>> music and words and sweat.
>>>> No tears.
>>>> Forget tommorow.
>>>> Let go the problems in time.

>>>> Sun bleached cure
>>>> the addiction does not hold me
>>>> as the drugs
>>>> human drugs
>>>> create the sound.
>>>> Saint Augustine night
>>>> moon mother smiles.

>>>> Catch the flow
>>>> it may never be back again, though possible.
>>>> Poetic form disintegrates
>>>> quit cold turkey,
>>>> so I can find what I have lost.
>>>> Termite stars shine on the oldest city.

>>>> The facist doctors

>>>> are no match for the
>>>> old man with beads.
>>>> Double digeridoo warble
>>>> aboriginal soul hum.
>>>> Sweat, blue meets red.
>>>> Let it drop for peace of mind.

>>>> Fingerpicking violinist weaves notes
>>>> through the breeze...
>>>> words about money float by.
>>>> Hope springs eternal
>>>> as long as the well ain't dry.

>>>> -Will Dockery

>>>> ----------------------------------------------

>>> I remember the night I wrote this poem like it was yesterday, although I don't think I could ever find my way back to the unique coffee shop that the poem describes, a place called The Forest... Summer 1997.

>>> https://www.instagram.com/p/CdzpTcRMgWF/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=


>> Cool times, remember when I looked like Fabio...?

>> Ha ha.

> I do.

Ha ha... long time, many moons ago... ha ha.

[W.Dockery]

Good evening, here's a photo from those days:

https://imgur.com/gallery/txagj3C

[W.Dockery]

General-Zod wrote:

> Will Dockery wrote:
>>

>>> Behind The Forest.

>> One of the poems in the Saint Augustine Blues series.

>> As always, comments and critique are welcome.

>

> Fine series...


Good afternoon, thanks again for the nod.