Bob Dylan Poem

[twilight]

When I was in hospital someone gave me their walkman and played me this poem by Bob Dylan. Apparently he wrote it when he was 21 and Woodie Guthrie was dying in hospital. It is amazing to listen to on tape but obviously I can't share that with u and its not as good reading it. But...I wanted to share it cos I was very ill when I first heard it and it said a lot of how I felt. I haven't included the whole thing here cos its a v long poem. I don't understand some parts of it but some of it feels exactly how i feel and what I'm thinking.....

Last thoughts on Woody Guthrie

When your head gets twisted and your mind grows numb,

When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb,

When you're lagging behind and losing your pace

In a slow-motion crawl or life's busy race,

No matter what you're doing if you start giving up,

If the wine don't come to the top of your cup,

If the wind's got you sideways with one hand holding on

And the other starts slipping, all the feeling is gone;

And a train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it

And the wood's easy finding but you're too lazy to fetch it

And your sidewalk starts crawling and the street gets too long

And you start walking backwards though you know that it's wrong,

And lonesome comes up as down goes the day

And tomorrow's morning seems so far away

And you feel the reigns from your pony are slipping

And your rope is a-sliding 'cause your hands are a-dripping

And your sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys

Turn to broken-down slums and trash can alleys.

And your sky cries water and your drain pipes are pouring

And the lightning's a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashing

And the windows are rattling and breaking and the rooftop's a-shaking

And your whole world's a-slamming and banging

And your minutes of sun turn to hours of storm

And to yourself you sometimes say,

"I never knew it was gonna be this way.

Why didn't they tell me the day I was born?"

And you start getting chills and you're jumping from sweat

And you're looking for something you ain't quite found yet

And you're knee deep in dark water with your hands in the air

And the whole world's watching with the window-peak stare

And your good gal leaves, and she's long gone a-flying

And your heart feels sick like fish when they're frying

And your jackhammer falls from your hands to your feet

But you need it badly but it lays on the street

And your bell's banging loudly but you can't hear its beat

And you think your ears might've been hurt

Or your eyes have turned filthy from the slight binding dirt

And you figured you failed in yesterday's rush

And you were faked out and fooled while facing a four-flush

And all the time you were holding three queens.

It's making you mad, it's making you mean

Like in the middle of Life magazine

Bouncing around in a pinball machine.

And there's something on your mind that you want to be saying

That somebody someplace oughtta be hearing

But it's trapped on your tongue, sealed in your head

And it bothers you badly when you're laying in bed

And no matter how you try you just can't say it

And you're scared to your soul you just might forget it

And your eyes get salty from the tears in your head

And your pillows and feathers turn to blankets of lead,

And the lion's mouth opens and you're staring at his teeth

And his jaws start closing with you underneath

And you're flat on your belly with your hands tied behind

And you wish you'd never taken that last detour sign.

You say to yourself,

"Just what am I doing?

On this road I'm walking, on this trail I'm turning,

On this curve I'm hanging, on this pathway I'm strolling,

In the space I'm taking, in the air I'm inhaling....

Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too hard?

Why am I walking? Where am I running? What am I saying?

What am I knowing on this guitar I'm playing?

On this banjo I'm freeling, on this mandolin I'm strumming,

In the song I'm singing, in the tune I'm humming,

In the words that I'm thinking, in the words I'm writing,

In this ocean of hours I'm all the time drinking?

Who am I helping? What am I breaking?

What am I giving? What am I taking?"

But you try with your whole soul never to think these thoughts

And never to let them kind of thoughts gain ground

Or make your heart pound

But then again, you know when they're around

Just waiting for a chance to slip and drop down,

'Cause sometimes you hear them when the nighttime come creeping

And you fear they might catch you sleeping.

And you jump from your bed from the last chapter of dreaming

And you can't remember from the best of your thinking

If that was you in the dream that was screaming,

And you know that it's something special you're needing

And you know there's no drug that'll do for the healing

And no liquor in the land to stop your brain from bleeding.

You need something special, you need something special, alright

You need a fast-flying train on a tornado track

To shoot you someplace and shoot you back,

You need a cyclone wind on a steam-engine howler

That's been banging and booming and blowing forever

That knows your troubles a hundred times over,

You need a greyhound bus that don't bar no race

That won't laugh at your looks, your voice or your face

And buying a number of bets in a book

Will be rolling long after the bubble-gum craze,

You need something to open up a new door

To show you something you've seen before

But overlooked a hundred times or more,

You need something to open your eyes,

You need something to make it known

That it's you and no one else that owns

That spot that you're standing,

That space that you're sitting,

That the world ain't got you beat.

It ain't got you licked, it can't get you crazy

No matter how many times you might get kicked.

You need something special alright,

You need something special to give you Hope—

[Betsy]

thxs twi........

sounds like me too.. and im tired