’Buked and scorned,
you’ve been warned,
but can bet
you will forget.
No point in bein’
’buked I say,
just for seein’
your own way.
Cold, cold heart
tears men apart
far more than heat,
though more discreet.
Cold’s worse than scorn
and stern rebuke;
we’re told to warn
by Pentateuch.
But what’s the point?
All disappoint.
Kept warm, let heart
be à la carte.
Written during a visit to a visit to a Bob Dylan exhibit at the Skirball Museum (“Bob Dylan’s American Journey 1956-1966) . Bob left Hibbing for Manhattan to connect with Woodie Guthrie, but also connected with Odetta, whose song “’Buked and Scorned” was played as one of the exhibits:
4/25/08
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem