So far, this has turned out to be a bit of a dead poet's society, so it's only appropriate that I now turn to a living poet, one who is better known for the lyrics he's written for a band called the Grateful Dead, but who has also published several books of poetry, and spoken word recordings: Robert Hunter. This selection comes from the book and recording entitled Sentinel.
![](http://www.dead.net/sites/deadbeta.rhino.com/files/images/19931021_2462.jpg)
I had to type the poem up myself, so if there are any mistakes, I do apologize, but here it is:
Gingerbread Man
by Robert Hunter
Wading into the fray
As though possessed
Despite all odds
Bloody but unbowed
Caution to the wind
Not to be nay said
All banners flying
Times without name
Name without number
Written on the wind in ballpoint
I am the gingerbread man
Knock-kneed and trembling
Yellow-bellied and shit scared
Jumpy as all get-out
Trembling like a leaf
Whistling in the dark
Nervous as ninepins
One over the elbow
A new way of talking
A new way to talk
A new way of cutting
A new way of cutting through
Do you like it
Do you love it
Do you want it
Do you need it
Will you hug it
Will you feed it,
cut it into thin
strips and eat it?
Flying in the face
Flying in the face
Flying in the face of danger
Heedless of harm
Laughing at disaster
Letting chips fall where they may
Without a "by your leave"
Times without name
Name without number
Written on the sky in solvent
I am the gingerbread man
Jittery as all bejeezus
Skittish as a squirrel
Prudently cautious
Breaking out in a cold sweat
Scared of my own shadow
One over the elbow
A new way of talking
A new way to talk
A new way of cutting
A new way of cutting through
Do you fight it
Do you fear it
Do you taste it
Do you hear it
Do you walk up
and rub noses
or just turn
the hose on it?
Flying in the face
Flying in the face
Flying in the face of danger
Reckless in abandon
Sheer force of will
Without regard to life or limb
Nor any backward glance
Dauntless, undeniable
Indomitable strength of purpose
Times without name
Name without number
on the sky in stars written
on the skin in stars
I am the gingerbread man
Lacking intestinal fortitude
Spineless, frightened out of my wits
A yellow streak down my back
Grinning like a shit-eating dog
Lilly-livered with tail
between legs, cold feet
Heart in my throat
One over the elbow
A new way of talking
A new way to talk
A new way of cutting
A new way of cutting through
I am the gingerbread man
Times without name
Name without number
This is a gingerbread angel
From over the bright blue boom
Flying down to feast on my
Peppermint eyes and pluck
The raisins from my smile.
Names worth dropping
Names in vain
Names to be reckoned with
Forms of address
for the formless
Omenclature
Womanclature
Euphemism
Newphemism
Ephemerism
Alias the Nameless
This name of mine
This name of yours
I do not paint
I do not dance
I do not dream
I do not think
I do not take
I do not give
I do not light
I do not burn
I do not stare
I do not blink
I do not sleep
I do not wake
I do not live
I do not perish
Flying into the teeth
With feckless mettle
Daring the Devil
Lashed to the mast
With full might and main
I am my name
My name is the name
that when you call it
I come.
My name and I
answer to anything.
You can listen to Robert Hunter reading this and other poems courtesy of the Rhapsody music site: just click here for Rhapsody MP3 Music Downloads: Sentinel by Robert Hunter (free to listen to, 99 cents to download).
And that's all for this installment of Desert Island Poems, stay tuned for the series finale Part Seven, coming soon to a Blog Time Passing near you!
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