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Hellish Highways...

The snarl of wicked beasts roared past
iron ponies ridden by demons
And sleds of metal rode the snow
in the frozen seasons

The hunting trails were haunted
by more than ghosts of braves
The people of the village gone
just left were the Indian graves

Smoke and fire shooting forth
sounds of demon-kind
Taunted the souls of the people
terrified their minds

How do the people's spirits rest
bears in their burrows deep?
The panther's screams are muted
no more, they hunt and creep

Hard packed trails go on forever
over the far ridged hills
The speed at which these devils ride
enough to give one chills

Roll over, try to sleep some more
Pull your mossy blankets near
Let the demons have what's left
the sound of thunder in your ear

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Last few words: 
This is the product of a conversation between myself and someone else in comments.
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

it must have been one Hell of a conversation. pardon the pun? no wonder I am confused.

*hugs, Cat

When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

Alan Abrams said to me that my comments on his poem of "Another Little Song For Gaia"; that my comments could almost be a poem. I took it to heart and wrote one! ~ Geez.
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It seems that the days and hours that people
are available for chatroom are staggered and
not a good match for most everyone. How about
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they have a few free minutes?

author comment

Good imagery! Gives a feeling of being on those cold, lonesome trails with nothing but the demons and spirits of those gone before us. I can hear the panther scream as the demons come to snatch our souls! Good read!

Join in our collaborative poem workshop. Each member will have a chance to write two stanzas at least four lines each. The stanzas must be relative to the poem.

the idea of all those wooded areas having motorcycle and snowmobile trails alongside of the highway, was a good idea for what if the local indians from three hundred years ago could see them, riding the trails that these roads follow? See the snowmobiles and off-road bikes flying down the trails? The cars and big trucks roaring down the highway? ~ Geez.
.

It seems that the days and hours that people
are available for chatroom are staggered and
not a good match for most everyone. How about
if everyone just shows up at the door, whenever
they have a few free minutes?

author comment

Heck of a way to come up with a poem. On second thought I guess it really isn’t. They come from everywhere don’t they? These ideas turned creation.

Good writing,
Tim

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