Thank you all for the birthday wishes, I really do appreciate people who take a moment out of their day to wish someone well. Id like to share with you a quick little poem that I just wrote, reflecting on my birthday. I remember a few years ago, an old friend of mine overdosed and so I went to visit him in the hospital—on my birthday, no partying, just sitting in the hospital with a friend. I didnt even know he did heroin, and fortunately it was the last time he did. He told me a pretty vivid story of his experience and so I decided to write my poem based on that. When Dustin overdosed he saw John Wayne. That makes Dustin some kind of philosophical expert in my opinion. John Wayne and heroin. John Wayne—honest to goodness cinema. My grandpa liked John Wayne. My grandpa was a logger, he took me in the woods to look at trees. A little boy in flannel, and I could have cared less about the forest. I wanted BB guns, boats and ice cream floats, But he took me to see the trees—I didnt care; But he loved them so much, And I loved him. So I began to love timber and the sawmill—I loved him so much. A man who has something to be proud of is beautiful: No matter what it is. Its his... And if he shares it with you, its yours too. That’s a beautiful thing like secrets— Like visions. If someone shares them with you, They’re yours for a minute. You are a lumberjack for a moment, you revel in the pine crisp air in 1985. For a moment you are not afraid to die, Because you know John Wayne will be there and together you will ride off into the sunset. Selfless plug for my book, ahem... jrforsyth.weebly/store/p12/The_Harbinger_%28eBook%29.html
Posted on: Thu, 03 Apr 2014 02:50:12 +0000
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