deepundergroundpoetry.com
Nebraska #34 & 6
It seems like everyone has a poem about Nebraska
Why wouldn't they, it’s a beautifully poetic place
Boring, but beautiful.
Every stop along route 6 essentially the same
Towns that only exist
Because farmers need a way to get rid of their grain
Or whatever they’re growing in those tall silos
That mammoth the surrounding shacks
Streaks of nothing paint the images in between
Vast fields of forever
Which probably belong to some rich tycoon
Who cries poor in the middle of the night
McCook was next, funny I don't remember it on the way in
But the way out it was blessed with police, of course.
Just east of the mile 57 marker on route 34
Some fiery urge whispered us to stop
Jumping out bare feet to the pavement we ran
Across the road to a small valley
Glittered with silver, ashes flew through the wind
Pine trees danced as I thought of rattlesnakes
Why? I don’t even know if they have those here
Just a random thought as we blessed the earth
With a beautiful soul
By nightfall we were in Colorado
It’s amazing how with just the change of a name spirits can be uplifted
Nebraska and Colorado are quite the same
Until you reach the mountains, who sit like Buddhas
Against the skyline of dusk.
Cherry orchards of water
Became the next resting place, for our old soul.
Then a river, then a tundra.
There is no place I’d rather be than on that mountain
Sitting with the idea of love
Sitting with a ghost
Sitting with a Friend.
Why wouldn't they, it’s a beautifully poetic place
Boring, but beautiful.
Every stop along route 6 essentially the same
Towns that only exist
Because farmers need a way to get rid of their grain
Or whatever they’re growing in those tall silos
That mammoth the surrounding shacks
Streaks of nothing paint the images in between
Vast fields of forever
Which probably belong to some rich tycoon
Who cries poor in the middle of the night
McCook was next, funny I don't remember it on the way in
But the way out it was blessed with police, of course.
Just east of the mile 57 marker on route 34
Some fiery urge whispered us to stop
Jumping out bare feet to the pavement we ran
Across the road to a small valley
Glittered with silver, ashes flew through the wind
Pine trees danced as I thought of rattlesnakes
Why? I don’t even know if they have those here
Just a random thought as we blessed the earth
With a beautiful soul
By nightfall we were in Colorado
It’s amazing how with just the change of a name spirits can be uplifted
Nebraska and Colorado are quite the same
Until you reach the mountains, who sit like Buddhas
Against the skyline of dusk.
Cherry orchards of water
Became the next resting place, for our old soul.
Then a river, then a tundra.
There is no place I’d rather be than on that mountain
Sitting with the idea of love
Sitting with a ghost
Sitting with a Friend.
Published 2nd Mar 2015
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don't know much abt Nebraska, but Colorado's mountains are extraordinary. sharp poem...
Anonymous
3rd Mar 2015 2:44am
i've been to nebraska once. wasn't terribly impressed, but i was bone tired and ready to be home. so maybe it's just that i don't have good memories of the place.
this, however, is a lovely poem. full of ache and home and truth. good one!
this, however, is a lovely poem. full of ache and home and truth. good one!
3rd Mar 2015 8:44am
I was in nebraska twice .Once to get to estes park,co. And second time to get back to chicago. Both times were pretty bad from falling asleep while driving to getting pulled over by military police in ohmaha. But the vast emptiness is beautiful kinda like a untouched america.
