still here


a day in January 2017

stair me high
beer me
Jung me here
where solution is mused
alcohol fired
burning with dead drool

drive me not but still
brick wall me
into dark certainty
smoldering heritage caution
eyed with misunderstanding
shifting into empty space

tooled into a sad moon
almost hidden in goodbye I
where you fallin volatile ways
see I is the high I visible
in a winding bereavement
dancing a fictious breeze

totally wired with Finnegan
I sonorously signaled
tear dreams into pale shreds
to make funny money from air
running to the end grave
just for the fun of it




Poetry by Bob
Read 601 times
Written on 2017-01-23 at 12:27

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The language here is kinetic and lively. Thank you for this poem!
2017-01-26



This is very passionate. It's the passion of that day that I feel as I read. The words hit hard and strong and sad at the end. Almost like a return from death.
Ashe
2017-01-23