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A day in December, fragile - handle with care, I followed every road for a twist of fate - chrome and cotton, It says Morris on the door the G.P.O. owned it before I drive in it for my job the governor calls me a slob But I don't really care give me some gas and the open air, Just like a car you're pleasing to behold, Once upon a time, Pooled resources 53.413211 -2.167478, The spare wheel
December by Michael Miller
I want to be a passenger
in your car again
and shut my eyes
while you sit at the wheel,
awake and assured
in your own private world,
seeing all the lines
on the road ahead,
down a long stretch
of empty highway
without any other
faces in sight.
I want to be a passenger
in your car again
and put my life back
in your hands.
Hariod Brawn said:
This is a thought-provoking one for me, and I wonder why it is that we desire to lose ourselves in another who we love? Perhaps it is not quite that, and more about union and trust, release and faith? Or hitchhiking? Maybe I think more than I am capable of comprehending?
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
It may be that it is the only way to find themselves for some, and what a wild and unusual land it is to get lost in. Uncharted landscapes from which there’s no turning back sometimes and never a map. You can’t put the pin back in a grenade. esme clearly gibbering nonsense now Comprehension-wise, there are few answers, and searching for them usually occurs once the pin is long gone laughs.
We’re all hitch-hikers, we just haven’t made it onto the Vogon ship yet throws a nod to Douglas Adams who waves back from the Cloud.
Thank you for the contemplation Hariod, appreciated as always smiles.
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Hariod Brawn said:
On your first point, I think Martin Buber may well have agreed. As you know, he proposed that authentic existence (as per. your phrase: ‘find themselves’) rested in encounter, in a non-objectified communication between two lovers. Then again, he said the same applies to the writer and the tree, which I find easier to appreciate somehow, perhaps because trees don’t object to being non-objectified, so you’re halfway there before you start.
I like the grenade analogy, and think I see what you mean: you can’t let go of the thing without wounding someone, perhaps yourself too. Nonetheless, if the weapon remains firmly grasped by one or other of the parties (trees don’t work so well in this situation), then all should be satisfactory. Cramps may occasionally ensue, though the grenade may still be given free rein for a few seconds whilst hands are changed so as to provide relief.
Perhaps I have over-thought the whole business in retrospect Esme. Reading Mr. Miller’s poem once again, whether it be called ‘Driven’ or ‘December’ (why should that be?), then I think it is about hitchhiking after all. I used to do lots of this, successfully so too, even though I held no sign up declaring that I wanted to ‘put my life in your hands’. That might be an interesting social experiment in fact, or a snare for the highways’ many serial killers.
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
“I think Martin Buber may well have agreed” – Well he is an affable chap, and nothing but polite when he pops over to the Cloud for afternoon tiffin, so you may well be right there aitch.
You know the hitchhiking angle works too, I agree, for that is just what a hitchiker does when hopping into a strangers vehicle – puts their life in someone else’s hands. They would have to have enjoyed the journey a hell of a lot to wish to be back there specifically mind you, as it doesn’t come across as a general ‘you’, meaning anyone. Why ‘December’ as a title? As a wild stab in the dark waves a paring knife about, I’m pretty sure he called it December because the trip occurred during…December. They don’t call me Miss Marple for nothing you know. laughs.
“if the weapon remains firmly grasped by one or other of the parties (trees don’t work so well in this situation), then all should be satisfactory. Cramps may occasionally ensue, though the grenade may still be given free rein for a few seconds whilst hands are changed so as to provide relief.” – Sips her tea in silence staring at him for a while, then sends him to his room with no supper and won’t hear another word on the subject
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makagutu said:
did you mean my car?
you wouldn’t want to sleep. the scenery would keep you awake if my driving can’t.
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
I don’t want anyone’s driving being such that it keeps me awake, that sounds quite scary – laughs.
I know you’re right mind you re the scenery, from the photographs I’ve seen it is a beautiful place you reside in mak. – smiles.
esme upon the Cloud
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makagutu said:
i think being a passenger is difficult if you can drive
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Oh yes, once you can drive the tendency is to be far more aware of what the driver is doing. Unless you have complete faith in them, which isn’t often I think as tis your subconscious that is also at work, regularly pressing down on the non-existent brake pedal whilst sat next to the driver . I find it less so if chattering away like a loon mind you,(obviously a rare state for esme to find herself in) – looks convincing
esme quiet as a mouse honest guv upon the Cloud.
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makagutu said:
I prefer to have a book that way I pay little attention to how I am being driven lest I lose my mind.
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
Sounds sensible. Reading in a moving vehicle has esme queasy-tastic sadly, however my mind remains, just about intact. smiles
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makagutu said:
It is a good way to invite sleep. Good morning and good day
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
True. Sicky sleep in my case laughs.
Good morning to you mak too, may the sun shine upon your endeavours smiles.
esme upon the Cloud
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The Institute for the Study of Slightly Varying Circumstances said:
The President and Founder
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
A superb comment P&F, keeping the level of quality high – esme approves. Thank you. nods
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tubularsock said:
Interesting. Reminds Tubularsock of childhood innocence and trust. Alas, you can’t go home again.
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
What a poignant way of looking at it Tubular. Yes, that’s quite true, there is such nostalgia attached to being driven by our parents about when we were young, back when we didn’t even have to think about trust, it was all a given that we were safe, and those days are lost to all of us eventually. We can never go back. Thoughtful stuff, thank you very much for your words. – nods deep in thought
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Clare Flourish said:
Oh God-
Want!
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Esme upon the Cloud said:
A fine response. Fits well. nods smiling.
esme of Cloud fame
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