Big Ol' House Blues (poem)

[hippy i am]

The crypts are alive
Beating within the cavity's mud
Disappearing beneath the wooden planks
But with two watchful ears:
You can hear the songs that they decry
The cry of an unborn war
An unshakable feeling
Their songs are coated in all of the possible
Undertones; warning of a time to come
When this big ol' house is gon' shake its weary walls
right on down to the weary ground

Tryin' my hardest to shake the blues

But my colours are like paint drying
Dryin' hard right onto the plastic walls
It seems so insignificant to me, now
But I'm-a gon' shake this big ol' house down

And I'm-a gon' shake it down to the weary ground
To find myself an empty hole in the walls
So I can hide them ancient blues inside
To coat the interior of a giant plexi-glass box
That it'll begin to ferment in a space
Surrounded by all sorts of blues
Just like these Big Ol' house blues

[hippy i am]

I wrote this on the sideporch patio at my place of employment, Panera Bread Co., and I was on my lunch break (AKA: 30 minute long cigarette break.) Does anybody like it?

[BraveSirRubin]

I must admit that I do like it.

Even though I also admit that I pictured an old Ray Charles look-alike with a raspy voice saying it outloud.

[hippy i am]

I must admit that I do like it.

Even though I also admit that I pictured an old Ray Charles look-alike with a raspy voice saying it outloud.
Hmm, I imagined Bob Dylan singing it folk-style. Duh. The younger Dylan.

[Miss_Beatle]

Yea, I can see Dylan singing it also.
Good poem :)