Decisions arise with all forks in the road: this way or that way? Which way shall I go? One poet tells us he took the least traveled, did he regret it? We never will know.
Forks in the road are a devilish conundrum; decisions invariably cause me to wonder. Whichever I choose, there's this niggling thought was this the right choice, or did I perhaps blunder?
Forks in the road can be anyone's guess it helps to have maps, though not always I fear for they don't include pitfalls or detours or landslides or dragons or bears that might simply appear.
At a fork in the road I will reach in my pocket, it's there that I keep my reliable guide to make my decision at the fork I am facing the toss of a coin will help me decide.
A fork in the road, and a coin to aid me, two faces to choose from, which fork shall I say? The choosing is easy, the method is simple And all that remains is deciding the way.
I like the way this poem flows. takes you to that fork in the road and then decision time and if you make the wrong one you can always go back and take the other route :-). lovely rhythm that makes for an easy read.
Great rhyme and rhythm. I like how you make your decisions. A toss of the coin and you can always go back. I've heard that to take the path that scares you the most makes you a tougher person. LOL
I knew this had to be a real event but truly don't want to believe it! you brought the scene to life and I could see the events unfold as I read. love the last line... gave me a chuckle.
This was a terrific way to get "fork" into this poem!!! I could tell it was a true event also. You played it out very well. A lot of imagery here so we could witness the whole scene!!!
I wonder why people don’t collect forks in the museum in Erie, PA they have spoons someone invented a silly thing called sporks never caught on for the silly buffoons
in the museum in Erie, PA they have spoons sporks didn’t make the cut for me never caught on for the silly buffoons spoons are used to stir my tea
sporks didn’t make the cut for me and forks are great for pie or cake spoons are used to stir my tea but forks I use to cut my steak
and forks are great for pie or cake someone invented a silly thing called sporks but forks I use to cut my steak I wonder why people don’t collect forks.
forgot to post this form is a pantoum. I have decided to use this round to work on my form poetry. I didn't want to delete the poem just to add Pantoum to the title.
I've been down that road so many times so many times and its forked this way and that while I was there while I was there Yes, it forked this way and that while I was there.
Oh the choices that I made down rivers and roads all around the country there were places I made my bed on the ground, Yes, I said, I made my bed on the ground and I smiled at the sunrise, and red sunsets all around I made peace with nature as I slept there on the ground
Chorus:
I never called my mama's name while I was gone I never cried a tear, I knew I was following the road I played tunes upon my fiddle and I laughed more than a little. I had fun wherever I laid my head, I slept like a babe wherever I made my bed.
Chorus:
Oh, I've wandered up the mountain pathways up and down and up and down in a daze, never gave a care if I was lost. In the forest I would find a fork and come out someplace else. And all the days would run one to another and I called the earth my dearest mother
Chorus:
I carried with me just what's on my back a bag of cereal for food was in my pack a book to be read, a journal to be fed and some clothes in case I found a shower or a lake down the road, down the road.
love the way you take us with you on your adventures and make it come to life. found myself singing it as I went along... fun choice and entertaining :-)
Oh I really loved this wonderful verse. It sounded so authentically old timey, like I came across it in a book of songs collected by a folklorist. Lovely job.
Forks
ReplyDeleteDecisions arise with all forks in the road:
this way or that way? Which way shall I go?
One poet tells us he took the least traveled,
did he regret it? We never will know.
Forks in the road are a devilish conundrum;
decisions invariably cause me to wonder.
Whichever I choose, there's this niggling thought
was this the right choice, or did I perhaps blunder?
Forks in the road can be anyone's guess
it helps to have maps, though not always I fear
for they don't include pitfalls or detours or landslides
or dragons or bears that might simply appear.
At a fork in the road I will reach in my pocket,
it's there that I keep my reliable guide
to make my decision at the fork I am facing
the toss of a coin will help me decide.
A fork in the road, and a coin to aid me,
two faces to choose from, which fork shall I say?
The choosing is easy, the method is simple
And all that remains is deciding the way.
Absolutely. I've always joked that my autobiography should be titled, "It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time, or, That Didn't Work."
DeleteI like the way this poem flows. takes you to that fork in the road and then decision time and if you make the wrong one you can always go back and take the other route :-). lovely rhythm that makes for an easy read.
DeleteGreat rhyme and rhythm. I like how you make your decisions. A toss of the coin and you can always go back. I've heard that to take the path that scares you the most makes you a tougher person. LOL
DeleteSKEWERED
ReplyDeleteTbilisi, Georgia
The goons stormed the Kiwi Cafe.
Bedecked in sausage necklaces,
they brandished skewered kebabs.
A dozen men pulled out their meat,
sausages, fish. The extremists
started eating them, threw grilled meat
into diners' vegan dinners
at the bohemian cafe
pelted patrons with slabs of meat.
Then they smoked, trying to provoke
customers, got violent, brawled.
The melee spilled onto the street.
Neighbors and hipsters joined the fray.
Some on the side of the vegans,
Some sided with the carnivores.
Police arrived. No arrests made.
The meat men had since absconded.
All they could do was say "Fork you."
In case you can't tell, the location under the title is a link to the article on the event.
DeleteI knew this had to be a real event but truly don't want to believe it! you brought the scene to life and I could see the events unfold as I read. love the last line... gave me a chuckle.
DeleteWell I had to get "fork" into it. LOL
DeleteThis was a terrific way to get "fork" into this poem!!!
DeleteI could tell it was a true event also. You played it out very well. A lot of imagery here so we could witness the whole scene!!!
Oh My, that must have been a sight to see. woo hoo, well done as a poem too. Clever the way you worked in the fork!
DeleteCollections
ReplyDeleteI wonder why people don’t collect forks
in the museum in Erie, PA they have spoons
someone invented a silly thing called sporks
never caught on for the silly buffoons
in the museum in Erie, PA they have spoons
sporks didn’t make the cut for me
never caught on for the silly buffoons
spoons are used to stir my tea
sporks didn’t make the cut for me
and forks are great for pie or cake
spoons are used to stir my tea
but forks I use to cut my steak
and forks are great for pie or cake
someone invented a silly thing called sporks
but forks I use to cut my steak
I wonder why people don’t collect forks.
forgot to post this form is a pantoum. I have decided to use this round to work on my form poetry. I didn't want to delete the poem just to add Pantoum to the title.
DeleteI never thought of that. They collect spoons, but not forks!
DeleteGreat pantoum!! I used to love the spoon collection. I do wonder now why they never collected forks.
Deletevery cute, that form is a favorite of yours and you do it so nicely. I liked the way you worked the spork into it. Nice job!
DeleteChorus:
ReplyDeleteI've been down that road so many times
so many times
and its forked this way and that while I was there
while I was there
Yes, it forked this way and that while I was there.
Oh the choices that I made down rivers and roads
all around the country there were places I made my bed
on the ground, Yes, I said, I made my bed on the ground
and I smiled at the sunrise, and red sunsets all around
I made peace with nature as I slept there on the ground
Chorus:
I never called my mama's name while I was gone
I never cried a tear, I knew I was following the road
I played tunes upon my fiddle and I laughed
more than a little. I had fun wherever I laid
my head, I slept like a babe wherever I made my bed.
Chorus:
Oh, I've wandered up the mountain pathways
up and down and up and down in a daze, never gave a care
if I was lost. In the forest I would find a fork and come
out someplace else. And all the days would run one to another
and I called the earth my dearest mother
Chorus:
I carried with me just what's on my back
a bag of cereal for food was in my pack
a book to be read, a journal to be fed
and some clothes in case I found a shower
or a lake down the road, down the road.
Chorus:
love the way you take us with you on your adventures and make it come to life. found myself singing it as I went along... fun choice and entertaining :-)
DeleteI'd love to hear this sung, (though maybe not by Bonnie. LOL) Nice job.
Deleteha ha ha
Deletejust trying an experiment. HA HA HA
Deletewhy don't I have a picture. LOL
DeleteOh I really loved this wonderful verse. It sounded so authentically old timey, like I came across it in a book of songs collected by a folklorist. Lovely job.
Delete