steal me feed me die me

steal me feed me die me
in days of slow comprehension
drive me up the country
seep through my wiry extension

drilled in back water shoals
I often fish while sleeping
in trees by summer schools
with sun's silence creeping

dovetailed and winged today
I sleep you to the scary hall
where man made machines pray
and almost dead is a silent call

find me not in this disarray
where rivers go blind
and the silent cannot play
find me not unkind

time for another day done
somewhere in motivation
an oxygen relief gone
into sleep's ramification




Poetry by Bob
Read 567 times
Written on 2015-06-12 at 14:04

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
Okay, first off I love the title and first line. The broken language (I am not sure what you call it) is reminiscent of Lennon's 2 books. I hope that slight comparison does not offend. But I like it!
2015-06-13



Unbelievably imagery as always that takes us from one end of the spectrum to the next. Each paragraph better than the last, although the third one is my favorite. Beautiful poem.
~Ashe
2015-06-12



This is wonderful Bob
you never fail to surprise with your weaving of images and language and it always fits so well:)
2015-06-12