The Beatles opened my eyes To a kaleidoscope of colors Illuminating that frizzy haired Ragamuffin on the corner […]
Bob Dylan
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They say, “Don’t confuse Hamlet with Shakespeare,” Bill wasn’t an introspective indecisive Dane, Byron wasn’t Byronic, And Dylan […]
When I started this blog my intention was to share prose as well as poetry (though poetry will likely always be my main focus), but I have neglected to post any prose pieces until now.
Summer of a Doormouse is an unfinished prose project that I haven’t done any signifigant work on in many years. I have hopes of finishing it in some form someday, but, until then, I want to share it here and mayb get some feedback.
The Summer of a Doormouse
by John W. Leys
“When one subtracts from life infancy (which is vegetation), –sleep, eating, and swilling – buttoning and unbuttoning—how much remains of downright existence? The summer of a doormouse.”
– George Gordon Noel, Lord Byron (1788-1824) Journal Entry, dated 7 December 1813
Straight outta Hibbing, Guitar in hand, New York bound. Think I’ll write some songs 10/15/16
Written on the occasion of Dylan being awarded the 2016 Nobel Prize for Literature.
Could be sung to the tune of ‘Song for Woody‘ by Bob Dylan.
You’re out there traveling another mile down the road,
Listening for messages when the cold winds have blow’d,
Writin’ ’em down and sendin’ ’em out,
Trying to figure what this crazy world’s all about.
Gravelly voiced gentleman With fuzzy brown hair A singing dancing acrobat With a steely eyed stare Traveling down […]
John W. Leys 