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Array ( [sid] => 132017 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Francis Wolf's Apocalypse or (Just the Right Camera) [time] => 2007-02-23 01:45:44 [hometext] => The End of the World [bodytext] => The cameraman caught a moment
Before the whole thing just exploded
He was clicking on the button
As the wide world corroded
Every living beast made it’s way for the hills
All the medical relief abandoned their scalpels and their pills
Everything was falling, as it should
Just like the bible said it would

But me I was on a tree stump
Reading an old diary
Ignoring the apocalypse
Just my age-old thoughts and me

Mary says the farm hand is working overtime
Every sinner pays a price for every angel’s crime
Pop is selling bankers a top dollar fatted calf
And any joke is still funny if ever you still laugh
Rockers on a porch side with war time memories
Little Tim in a cotton hall bin learning bout birds and bees
I’ll kiss you if you promise not to tell
If we smooch and it’s heaven, I’ll follow you to hell

The parking meters crushed
Sewer pipes shot up high
All the earth just seemed to moan
And the skies just seemed to cry
People were all praying
In their minivans on the 101
As our feathered friends retreated
Into the orange of the sun

But me I was on a tree stump
Reading an old diary
Ignoring the apocalypse
Just my age-old thoughts and me

Surfing is for the movies not for your two feet
I’ll take you up on an offer on that all that you can eat
If that dog don’t stop yapping, Johnny swears to God he’ll die
A potbelly bulldog bump on a log’s not worth your grumpy sigh
The radio is finally in and the game show’s in play
I recalled Sid Vicious died in 79 on a ground hogs day?
It was in some big washed lit town, maybe New York City
I’d be your punk if you’d be my hillbilly

The glasses all shattered
Glistening like an ocean made of jewels
People were cursing
About the fortunate and the fools
Some man took a snapshot
Just before it all crashed down
And we still have not found a purpose
For us purposing around

But me, you see, I just sat on a tree stump
Reading an old diary
Ignoring the apocalypse
Just my age-old thoughts and me
Sitting on a tree stump
Just my age-old thoughts and me

BooM
[comments] => 2 [counter] => 433 [topic] => 71 [informant] => Franciswolf [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => secrets )
Francis Wolf's Apocalypse or (Just the Right Camera)

Contributed by Franciswolf on Friday, 23rd February 2007 @ 01:45:44 AM in AEST
Topic: secrets



The cameraman caught a moment
Before the whole thing just exploded
He was clicking on the button
As the wide world corroded
Every living beast made it’s way for the hills
All the medical relief abandoned their scalpels and their pills
Everything was falling, as it should
Just like the bible said it would

But me I was on a tree stump
Reading an old diary
Ignoring the apocalypse
Just my age-old thoughts and me

Mary says the farm hand is working overtime
Every sinner pays a price for every angel’s crime
Pop is selling bankers a top dollar fatted calf
And any joke is still funny if ever you still laugh
Rockers on a porch side with war time memories
Little Tim in a cotton hall bin learning bout birds and bees
I’ll kiss you if you promise not to tell
If we smooch and it’s heaven, I’ll follow you to hell

The parking meters crushed
Sewer pipes shot up high
All the earth just seemed to moan
And the skies just seemed to cry
People were all praying
In their minivans on the 101
As our feathered friends retreated
Into the orange of the sun

But me I was on a tree stump
Reading an old diary
Ignoring the apocalypse
Just my age-old thoughts and me

Surfing is for the movies not for your two feet
I’ll take you up on an offer on that all that you can eat
If that dog don’t stop yapping, Johnny swears to God he’ll die
A potbelly bulldog bump on a log’s not worth your grumpy sigh
The radio is finally in and the game show’s in play
I recalled Sid Vicious died in 79 on a ground hogs day?
It was in some big washed lit town, maybe New York City
I’d be your punk if you’d be my hillbilly

The glasses all shattered
Glistening like an ocean made of jewels
People were cursing
About the fortunate and the fools
Some man took a snapshot
Just before it all crashed down
And we still have not found a purpose
For us purposing around

But me, you see, I just sat on a tree stump
Reading an old diary
Ignoring the apocalypse
Just my age-old thoughts and me
Sitting on a tree stump
Just my age-old thoughts and me

BooM




Copyright © Franciswolf ... [ 2007-02-23 01:45:44]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Francis Wolf's Apocalypse or (Just the Right Camera) (User Rating: 1 )
by FRANCO on Friday, 23rd February 2007 @ 10:52:56 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
...And what I could see is the entire Contemporary society sitting on a tree stump and pretending to read (keep them busy) and ignoring the apocalypse, Just their age-old thoughts and them.
your poem is sure a wakeup call to the society I presume.
FRANCO.


Re: Francis Wolf's Apocalypse or (Just the Right Camera) (User Rating: 1 )
by poet_in_waiting on Friday, 23rd February 2007 @ 01:45:02 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
wow .. great imagery .. good read




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