A Third Stranger at the Helm

A third
At the

Oh, brake lights
my body has ’em.
Seize my pedal, Stranger,
to keep it from engaging
the lights of No.

My brain is not
the store of Self

Oh, my. Oh, my
darkling chorus is
on strike-
cliffs above

Dover is never
that thing you’ve seen
in mirrors, Maiden.

Their voices should be
ringing out
above the
frayed edges of
brake lights;

My body has ’em
squeaking with wear and
apart my mind,
for a third Stranger
is at the helm.

Third Stranger is the one
who tells me to tell
the words out right;

right out
in the street
between the brake lights at night.


24 thoughts on “A Third Stranger at the Helm

  1. better to tell words right out in the street than to be left out in the street.

    Ahahaha, I’m so punny.

    Or tired.

    At any rate, I like the ring to this poem.

    1. Yes, you are. Sometimes, what a reader takes away is more important than what was intended. Or more interesting? And thank you for asking questions and presenting ideas; it helps me understand how this poem comes across to others. That’s important. More detailed points of reference … I’ll see what I can do.

      Thanks again,
      K. Shawn Edgar

  2. No offense, but would somebody please tell me what is obscure about this poem? “Seize my pedal” is clearly, well, well these comments should be PG and all, but come on. I’m going to go ask Sea Snake and Cream Puff right now why people complicate things.

  3. Good one , reminded me of a lot of other things, of the third umpire in cricket-one who always tells the truth.It is a sort of crazy ride though i think I heard you chuckle somewhere on the way.

  4. I cant help but say that this piece felt so relative of the emotions conjured in my practice of meditation when trying to quiet the ego-mind.

    I always love a poem that immediately takes me to such a personal place. Fantastic piece ~ Rose

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