Oh, and to explain the poem some - it's about how we can make our own choices in life, without being tied to our ancestry, or how society drives us to move in different directions.
It's about how we're neither really born 'lucky' or 'unlucky', about how we make our own path in the world through the decisions and actions we choose.
I don't think someone accidentally hit the wrong button AND rated it a one. Is there a hater among us? I thought it was pretty good. Maybe there is a mad flagger out there.
I like the mad flagger theory. He's a Gather super villian. muhahaha.
I liked it. You know it's probably someone reacting stupidly to the word "flank" perhaps you should have said behind or patootie. Would that be less socially offensice or more poetically offensive?
As one of my characters, Randy Joyce Locke (and yes, she'd be flagged for sure) would point out, "Everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion, no matter how ignorance and stupid that opinion might be." (The first chapter is available on my Gather page under articles -- do observe the adult warning)
I have a piece of artwork somewhere here, which I call "The Irony of freedom" -- a young naked woman on a horse, jumping a fence; a city in the background. I think that would be flagged too -- which would extend the intended metaphor.
When Whitman's Leaves of Grass was panned by a critic and called 'pornographic,' Whitman said, "Good, that'll sell a thousand copies."
(According to Carl Jung, sometimes what a person finds offensive has nothing to do with what he or she is looking at, but rather, something about him or her self - sometimes called: Shadow Projecting)
Anyway, Ms. Cushing, you make a very good argument here in your poem. Over the years, I've seen both side of this. "I am not my father -- nor am I his father," and, Wordsworth says, "The child is the father of man." Yet, if I stand at my parent's graves and squint, I can almost see all of those thousands of people that conspired over the thousands of years to bring me to his moment and this purpose, watching me -- waiting to see what I am going to do with what they all had a hand in giving me.
I love your last line: "These shoes are neither lucky, nor nailed to our feet." Ties the horse metaphor throughout the poem.
"Luck is fate taken personally." Penn Gillet (of Penn and Teller)
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Comments: 22
I thought it was a good piece although I can not say I understand it fully.
It's about how we're neither really born 'lucky' or 'unlucky', about how we make our own path in the world through the decisions and actions we choose.
I liked it. You know it's probably someone reacting stupidly to the word "flank" perhaps you should have said behind or patootie. Would that be less socially offensice or more poetically offensive?
The Mad Flagger is a horse's behind.
and here have a 10 star too
enjoyed the piece it really makes you think x
As one of my characters, Randy Joyce Locke (and yes, she'd be flagged for sure) would point out, "Everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion, no matter how ignorance and stupid that opinion might be." (The first chapter is available on my Gather page under articles -- do observe the adult warning)
I have a piece of artwork somewhere here, which I call "The Irony of freedom" -- a young naked woman on a horse, jumping a fence; a city in the background. I think that would be flagged too -- which would extend the intended metaphor.
When Whitman's Leaves of Grass was panned by a critic and called 'pornographic,' Whitman said, "Good, that'll sell a thousand copies."
(According to Carl Jung, sometimes what a person finds offensive has nothing to do with what he or she is looking at, but rather, something about him or her self - sometimes called: Shadow Projecting)
Anyway, Ms. Cushing, you make a very good argument here in your poem. Over the years, I've seen both side of this. "I am not my father -- nor am I his father," and, Wordsworth says, "The child is the father of man." Yet, if I stand at my parent's graves and squint, I can almost see all of those thousands of people that conspired over the thousands of years to bring me to his moment and this purpose, watching me -- waiting to see what I am going to do with what they all had a hand in giving me.
I love your last line: "These shoes are neither lucky, nor nailed to our feet." Ties the horse metaphor throughout the poem.
"Luck is fate taken personally." Penn Gillet (of Penn and Teller)