there are meters running

there are meters running
like wolves rhyming
there are intentions
more intense than anything
one man can pocket
before sunset

wise men pick darkness
from boughs
heavy with the coming of night
other might find speed
to their specific liking
in mirrors of demise

remedies and solace
roll like waves
over everyone's shore
the tempestuous
constantly finds himself
in disarray

roll our protest in a joint
strengthen all your inspiration
with ale and dosed Band-Aid
stream like a contest
of dread and the unwritten
there are mushrooms to consider

derelict and bloated
like a lead balloon
walked to the edge
pillared and glorified
one still needs water




Poetry by Bob
Read 298 times
Written on 2017-06-11 at 23:17

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email
dott Print text



I find these lines ineffably beautiful:

wise men pick darkness
from boughs
heavy with the coming of night

Beautiful and strange and new. Thank you.
2017-06-12