I make no claims

of brilliance or elegance

only of white walls

and handmade furniture


of lavenders blooming

and roses climbing

outside my window,

even in winter


I know of tadpoles and lizards,

snakes and crayfish

of flint rocks and red clay

passion fruit and sumac berries.


I have tasted sand,

caressed hawk feathers

and scarred my knuckles

while building barbed wire fences


I walked the halls of academia,

succeeded, so they tell me,

because of my memory

and ability to read people


but somehow I have failed

to understand the appeal

of leather cases, concrete,

high heel shoes


and gray wool skirts.


7 thoughts on “Unsuccess

  1. I have felt this and wondered why. You have painted a poem that many can identify with. When I traded my flannel shirts for brooks brothers–I traded more that I knew.
    Check out my latest–Sometimes the Mist of the Mountains.

  2. Scot,


    I saw your wonderful poem over on the bridge and have left a comment for you, but let me say again that it is completely awesome. I’d recommend it to anyone and your site as well!


  3. Loved this one too. again i felt linked with the poem..You have a way of touching hearts of every day people….i too hate wool skirts, never wore high heals …
    loved my vist to your poetry…beautiful work..

  4. wonderful poem but i am not objective here.

    “when i was just a little young boy
    papa said son youll never get far
    i’ll tell you the reason if you wanta know
    theres really not very far to go”

    some grateful dead song

    not a dead head but those lines kinda stuck

  5. Thank you for sharing those lyrics. I’ve never really listened to Grateful Dead, but those are some pretty powerful words in such a small package.


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