| Please leave comments that help me improve my craft. All comments are welcome. |
~Wyn--
Hey, I'm WynNewest
Clutching A River Birch SaplinClutching A River Birch Sapling - by Wyn Garrett DawsonClutching A River Birch Saplin
Clutching a river birch sapling,
I rip it out of the refuse that has collected
along a dry culvert.
Grit builds under my nails as I plant the birch
off the gravel road everyone
takes in and out of Flowerlake County.
Flakes of bark along the forked body
of the River Birch wave lavender and orange
in the soft winds today.
I smile in that it's grown enough shade for me
and my cane-pole, as I wait for a bobber to wobble under.
by ~Wyn--
After Westbank and StreuselAfter Westbank and Streusel - by Wyn Garrett DawsonAfter Westbank and Streusel
After crunching numbers for Westbank and Streusel,
under a black and white photo of 35' Fords
driving Main Street when it was unpaved.
I step out of my office and find Emili
early and waiting in the stale lobby. As we drive home to Hillcrest,
she talks about our dinner tonight and how
we should call in sick tomorrow.
At home she pulls grass sprouts from in-between boards on the sundeck. Trying to get everything ready for tonight when we'll burn torches
and drink until the mosquitoes have us sm
by ~Wyn--
Lingering Smoke In Longleaf...Lingering Smoke In Longleaf Pines. - by Wyn Garrett Dawson.Lingering Smoke In Longleaf...
I'm out around the Knoxuba Wild- Life Refuge near Sunn Lake.
I've been scouting for alligator to snap.
I stop in a section of longleaf pine
and white oak, charred from
a controlled burning set to kill chocking vines.
My shoes turn black when I step from
my truck into the soot. while I walk, the light cycles
around lingering smoke as it pierces the canopy.
A blue Jay calls, and I turn to find
it forage the ash for acorn.
by ~Wyn--
The Stench of a Cotton GinThe Stench of a Cotton Gin - by Wyn Garrett DawsonThe Stench of a Cotton Gin
In this cotton gin everything is the same dusty gray, Even the air Outside my safety glasses and
The mask banded to my face.
The only things I can see Are the buttons I’m paid to press
Near a warning sign with a photo of a cut up hand.
I get bumped on the shoulder, it’s Danny Camp, and he’s Yelling Something. But my plugged ears only ring around
These grumbling Machines.
I follow him out through columns of light filled with
Swirling bronze specks. We sit on the concrete loading &n
by ~Wyn--
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Devious Journal Entry
SadnessdeviantID
| I'm often inspired by a love for music; and the life I've had living here in Mississippi. |
Devious Info
- Current Residence: Mississippi
- Interests: Writing, Songwriting, Guitar and Mandolin
- Favourite movie: Time Bandits, Stop Making Sense, Fear and Loathing, Zombie Films, Movies with Bill Murry.
- Favourite band or musician: Dylan,Talking Heads, Ben Folds, Tool, Radiohead, WSP, Pink Floyd, The Beatles, String Cheese.
- Favourite genre of music: I love music cause' when it hits you, you feel no pain. -BM-
- Favourite artist: Friends
- Favourite style of art: anything that draws attention
- Favourite game: Mass Effect. Mouse Trap.
- Favourite gaming platform: I play Xbox.
- Personal Quote: EEEeeee!
- Tools of the Trade: Laptop, paper and pen.
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Have a lovely week
--
There are no victories in all our histories without love
--
There are no victories in all our histories without love
--
“Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.”
-Pablo Picasso
t h a n k . y o u . s o . m u c h . f o r . t h e .
--
And there is a smile of smiles
In which these two smiles meet
William Blake
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