The Husquavarna

Pravda

because I couldn't think of anything more pretentious

Jesse Mitchell

Location: http://open.salon.com/blog/jmitch79, Illinois,
Birthday: June 29

Company: my own, mostly

Bio: I am a 30 year cattle farmer. I have 4 children (3 girls and 1 boy) who range in age from 7 years down to 2 months. I am married, been with the same woman now for 10 years. I have worked as a cook, salesman, tailor, engineer's assistant, and also a bomb maker . I have been writing my entire life (really I mean that like all of it even way down into 'em baby years) and still, feh, not so good. I wish there was more to say about me but no such luck. Oh, yes you can all just call me, Jesse. I have seen the trouble people have when replying to me and they find that they must use that awkward JMitch79 business...so my name is Jesse and you may call me by it.

MY RECENT POSTS

I have Moved...(yeah a little while back, sorry)
March 26, 2011 08:05PM
curve
August 04, 2010 10:48AM
Finding the Beat trailer
July 27, 2010 12:15PM
flame Eaters
July 19, 2010 10:07AM
Travels in the Chevy/oldsmobile part 3
July 13, 2010 04:33PM

MY RECENT COMMENTS

“Yeah, amen to that...it is getting very scary out there, man.”
January 04, 2012 11:14AM
“ha ha ha. nice.”
May 12, 2011 08:29PM
“Wild stuff here man. It is definitely frightening. You do your job well, sir.”
April 16, 2011 03:08PM
“well you know I dig this, brother. Nice stuff.”
March 02, 2011 02:18PM
“Hey how about this one...this is good.”
August 22, 2010 02:43PM

Jesse Mitchell's Links

my links: Shan; natalie; bob; Chuck

« Back to Posts

APRIL 12, 2010 12:36PM

Rate: 10 Flag

The Husquavarna

The wild hiss of the idling engine,

The fake growl, the chug and jerking,

Loud noises…405

Meant to be heard.

The sound echoing and bouncing back

In the tiny little spaces

Where I hide my head.

The big eyes, the big broken broken eyes,

Staring back in at me…

Meant to be seen.

Like a monster crashing though the glen…

Loud loud noises

Like the phantom climbing, hillside

Silent silent steps…

The awful aftershocks of memory

Filthy muddy bootprints down the hall

The dirty aftershocks of thought…

Dry crackling leaves make their rustle.

Loud loud things

Meant to be heard.

Author tags:

poetry

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Comments

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hey this one may not be very good but here it is anyway...I am actually trying to start a movement as it were...yeah how pompus right...but yeah i am. If you will notice I leave out a lot of major details both with my poetry and fiction...not many solid places, times, names...so forth...a kind of literary impressionism...so that everything I write means something slightly different to everyone and since it does not put a person in a definite time or place...it only presents an emotional resonce or mood...it can mean something...or something dirrefent to everyone from cradle to grave. I will work out the manifisto and a better name. I know i know...I am the most pretenious person you know...its okay...Ive made my peace with it. Jesse

Jesse Mitchell

April 12, 2010 12:40 PM

Not as long as I'm around you aren't. Lot's of time to think mowing grass huh?

bobbot

April 12, 2010 12:44 PM

I like your metaphors.

BuffyW

April 12, 2010 01:12 PM

I like this style very much. Spare yet powerful. I also agree that poetry has meaning for the reader to discover within him or herself. not to be ascribed necessarily from the writer. Well done.

rita shibr

April 12, 2010 01:17 PM

don't rag on your work... this was deep and powerful.

Chuck A. Stetson

April 12, 2010 01:26 PM

What Chuck said, verbatim.
Rated.

Thoth

April 12, 2010 04:02 PM

xox

Robin Sneed

April 12, 2010 06:25 PM

Very good!! Rated!

Tinkerertink69

April 12, 2010 07:33 PM

Yeah, stop ragging on your work. You have a rapt and loyal audience!

zumalicious

April 12, 2010 09:34 PM

Rita always says what I'd have said. I have to start trying to get here sooner so I can say it first. You're not pretentious, you're authentic. And unique.

Sally Swift

April 12, 2010 11:43 PM

Jesse, you are a wonderful poet! I must admit I was thinking of the Huskie dirt bike my first husband climbed hills with in the '70's in the sand dunes of Southern California. I had to adjust my thinking when bobbot ventured that it might be a mower! Lovely repetition of words, nicely phrased....Don't beat on yourself as pompous or pretentious......who among us on OS isn't that??? I mean, really, all we want's to be read, and heard, and understood. Poetry is so personal, and yours does create a mood - but whether the poet gets people to understand HIS mood or not doesn't really matter, cuz you can't control that. Keep writin'!