Baking, the tattoo industry, and even poetry.....
These are 3 worlds I have enjoyed dwelling in.
One thing I've noticed, that these camps have in common is that whether you like it or not, you've really got to apprentice in these fields, if you are going to get good.
If you don't pay you dues, most of the "higher ups" will simply stop giving you their time.
Nobody wants to invest in a scratcher.
One of my favorite things to do with Finley is to shoot him over a poem, then hold my breath until he sends me back the version that he and God would endorse.
I am not in a position to return the favor, but today I am going to rebel against the rebel, and do it anyway.
It all started a couple days ago when Mike posted a poem of his on Facebook wall, and truth be told....I thought it was much more the type of poem I would have written.
I looked over it several times, and everytime my eyes slid down the column of words....I just smiled and thought to myself....
"If Finley dies, I'm swiping this poem and calling it my own."
One unusual feature about this work was that their were mispelled words, and a couple ideas I felt were forced, but one thing I'm noticing about Finley as he gets older is he is at the point where he simply could care less about impressing any of us, he's just gonna chuck mud on the wall w/o worrying about splash marks.
But this poem means a lot to me. In all seriousness, when I look at it, it comes across like a super model, but one with shoe boxes for slippers.
So Klecko is going to do the unthinkable and rub a little polish on this piece, and then maybe I'll spend my next few days ditching lightening bolts.
The Great Ladder of Being
by Mike Finley on Monday, April 23, 2012 at 12:22pm
(the Klecko-Edit Addition)
On the top rungs are angels and just below... men
Who are splendid in reason, and shining like gold
Next comes everybody else,
The blowhards, the lepers and knaves
And then the other species line up
Noble ones first, then the great apes
Who are followed by loyal dogs, dolphins and so on
Desending in importance, until they reach the bottom rung
Which is surrounded with beetles,tapeworms and germs
And those little black blobs of smut that grow on corn
Then finally the rocks, rust and dust
And the empty air of outer space
And the people on the ladder keep falling,
While the worst of us watch the chimpanzees climb by
And we slip on the rungs and tumble downward
The once-great, coming to horrible ends
Until it couldn't be any darker
Until the air can not be breathed or believed
And there is God waiting to greet us --
Wondering why we didn't envision him at the bottom
END OF POEM
Finley, I hope you enjoy my edit, but let me ask you one more question......
It is against God's Law to covet thy neighbor's wife....
Are we allowed to covet our teachers poems?
I so wish I had written this, I can't express how much I like your piece.