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Let it Ride (An Archery Poem)

Let it Ride
this week,
like most weeks,
has had its ups and downs
though, I am thankful
that it’s mostly been on the up
rounding it out, so far as weekdays go,
is today—
Friday
while getting into my flow state for a bit
I descend into our basement
to shoot a quick round of six arrows
from my trusty recurve bow
they call this style of shooting
traditional archery
these days
days when most enthusiasts
let their arrows fly
from highly modernized wonders
of design, manufacturing, and technology
bows which feature:
multiple sight pins, oriented for specific yardages,
highly-tuned compound pulley systems,
significant let-off when fully drawn,
plus other advantageous
bells and whistles
cutting-edge bows that feel more akin, in many ways,
to shooting a modern rifle
than they are
the ancient bows
of our warrior/hunter ancestors
BUT, when using an old-timey style stick and string
with no sights, let alone bells or whistles,
you’ve got to earn your confidence
by your hits
via a good bit of practice and
the development
of your archer’s intuition
and your humility?
well— that is earned by your misses
“Aim small,
miss small,”
I recite in my mind
as slowly draw back number one for Friday morning,
feel my aim, and
let ‘er fly
dead bullseye, baby…
though I don’t often do this,
I’m gonna cash in my bowman’s chips for the day
after only one shot
since I found my center
on the first try
mark it down in the “ups” category for this week
I’ll just let these other five arrows
have an early weekend
as for the first projectile
sharply piercing the nucleus
of my well-worn target block
I’ll just
let it ride
in singular satisfaction
Luke Austin Daugherty
4/18/2025
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Studies in Indiana Chicory and the Queendom of Ants (a spoken word street poem)
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Four Men, Eating Indiana Tenderloins (poem)



A Good Fucking Dude
I’ve bumped into him at the Oasis Diner counter
a handful of times
the type of guy who stands out
if you know what you’re looking for
kind
honest
gregarious
genuine
optimistic
he always interacts with the servers and staff
respectfully and with humor
the last time we were both here
I heard him talking about the spot in town
where he works as a waiter
my son, Caleb, used to work there too as a cook
so I asked the fella his name
“Donald,” he said
then, I said he may know my son
Donald remembered him and
we ended up talking about customer service,
the restaurant industry,
and being good to people
for maybe 20 minutes before he cut out
I told him he’d enjoy, Give ‘Em the Pickle, by old Bob Farrell
(R.I.P. Bob)
then, this late morning, when I was again writing up at the counter
he came in, sitting at his regular spot
“Hello, again!” he greeted me with a smile
I smiled back and returned a Sunday morning salutation
he asked me, “How’s your day going?”
in the way that I often answer smalltalk with bigtalk
I took a long, deep, introspective breath
“I want to answer you honestly… It’s an odd day
at the end of one of the hardest weeks of my life.
But, I’m doing my best.”
“Yeah, I get that. I’ve been getting absorbed into work
and not really doing much else.”
after a bit more chat, I said, “Please forgive me as I suck with names.
What is your first name again?”
“Donald,” he answered. “And tell me yours again? Luke, right?”
“Yup. Good memory.”
we chatted off and on for an hour as we both bullshat with the servers
then, I got an unexpected unction
that I felt inside
because you just don’t find that sort of person every day in life
maybe not even every year
I waited for a break in the action when he was about to leave
“Hey, Donald. May I ask you an odd question
that I haven’t asked so plainly
since probably second grade?”
“Sure,” he replied, adjusting himself in my direction with a look of intrigue
I said, “You seem like a good fucking dude.
Do you want to be friends?”
“Yes,” he answered, smiling
“So, how do we go about that?”
“Well, I guess just hit me up on Facebook. I’m easy to track down. The only Luke Austin Daugherty
on the planet, so far as I know.”
only a minute later he said,
“HA! We have some of the same friends. I just added you”
“Well, I guess cool people know cool people,” I said grinning
2/7/2021

Forest Green, a found pencil poem




Find my poetry books and music on Amazon, iTunes! Just search my full name. Thanks for reading and sharing! -Luke
Hump Day Fruitcake Mantra (a poem)


