i can come up with
reasons why i smoke
why i eat more when sad
i can explain how socks
magically disappear
in the machine
none come to mind
when each season
sees you as
a tired excuse
i carry in my back pocket
i can come up with
reasons why i smoke
why i eat more when sad
i can explain how socks
magically disappear
in the machine
none come to mind
when each season
sees you as
a tired excuse
i carry in my back pocket
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Direction:
How does this theme appeal to you?
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Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
like grocery lists
there is great beauty in the singular of ordinary
your poems
for me are like treading water
feeling the freedom of slow gravity
of that bouyant joy
words like solutions washing over my
minds imagination
like a drink of luscious coffee
Your comments
are like fresh aired poetry that is dried just to perfection by the sun. It makes me smile. Thank you.
I want to know
“why” socks disappear in the laundry. Neat little poem here, in my opinion.
Because machines eat them lol
Because machines eat them lol didn't you know ;)
It's the way of things being
It's the way of things being what they are, Al.
Sweet little gem of a vignette, CC.
~A
Ian, have to say I simply
Ian, have to say I simply love your replies as of late. Not moralistic or sentimental, real inter-action...humorous and insightful.
~A
lol
I guess I'll never know, mine just ended up those tiny pieces of paper stuck to fabric when you forget to empty them before washing. Just an annoyance :P
Thanks JC
I am pleased to see you visit anytime, and yeah those bits of paper are so annoying :P
CC
I have found those socks you are missing, I am not sure what is happening in this world. Those machines they sell us as washing machines worry me, I had a sock come out the other day with a flies backside stuck to it with its little legs jumping all over the place..
Just take care, And many thanks for reminding me to take those old faded things out of the wallet in my back pocket, a ticket for a Greyhound bus from 1978 this would not go down well in the present.
Loved the write so back it comes to top of the stream, Yours Ian.T