I will not let time enter into the fray
the albatross is already perched high
scanning the grey sea with grey eyes.
My amusement with god wears thin,
my coat is frayed and moths are done
with their hunger, there's a silk thread
dangling from my sleeve and it offers
a lifeline,
just remember I'm neither the black swan
nor the white,
I do not copulate with justification, my long
neck won't break the chains of fascination,
my toes are not pointers to some other destination,
rolling off the track in a runaway train.
We break the ice like this sometimes,
poets don't always have the right words.
Apologies don't come easy
as throwing salt on old wounds,
stringing words together in the shape of a punchline,
the raw sex of it throws me off balance.
Comments
Anna ...
salty sex hmmmm, oh wait, maybe you didn't mean to
take me there (lol)
helluva poem Anna
Anna
i may have got it wrong...i see a portrayal of a Hippie popping up through this write...if so nicely done..if not i would appreciate to know about its synthesis...
Thanks for reading U2..
Thanks for reading U2..
I have no clue where this came from or where it goes. However, it seems I had to write it......perhaps it's a story of an old hippie, perhaps it's not and it's a meditation on nothing.
~A
now that doesn't give me any
now that doesn't give me any clue Anna about my perception being right or wrong..making it mysterious lol...