This morning
I walked out my front door
to fields and meadows
blooming hues
of buzzing golds
and brilliant blacks
floating
sex
machines
banshees
riding
roughshod
you could almost
hear
the roses
shriek
and
the tulips
look
the
other
way
Damn
I
was
jealous
8 comments:
This is a poem I extracted from a larger work, which I will publish later. The entire poem is a damn sad affair, but this poem within the poem, taken alone, is bright and cheery. So, it has a life of its own--for now. Enjoy.
The poem rocks. The fractal reminds me of my favorite flower, pansy, sooo... switched again. Thanks.
Thank Lucila. You know, sometimes poetry is just too much damn fun. Gonna make a beer run. Back later. And bring your petals. :-D
You are sooo bad!
Love the shape of the poem.
Speed and freedom, are the words that come to mind, and a sense of abandonment that is exhilarating, which may be a strange thing to note given this is written from an observer's point of view, with coveting, craving, yearning not participation, but it stands on a threshold, of promise, of opportunity, amongst the gold and black, in the meadow, a part of the scene. It is in the seeing, in the meeting, in the desire and the appreciation, it is the want, the wanting to be a part, in knowing enough to seek. Mood permeates, one taken perhaps not the 'intended' albeit, absolutely love this poem, style, language, it all.
Nature just effortlessly kicks ass :)
Annie, I couldn't have said it better. :-)
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