|
|
 |
|
Reply
| |
Reality Byte i had a dream last night in it two women one long dead the other long gone were fighting and i was the prize it goes to show that the superego has a sense of humour to enter my dreams and make of me a prize to be fought for but morning came and the harsh early light hit me full in the face and dragged me reluctantly into a new day the same as all the rest The Mountain, Malcolm, and Me Stark and serious against the blue sky it casts a long shadow, this mountain. It looks benign if not benelovent. But deep inside the fury waits. I know now why Lowry drank and finally ran. I too live under a volcano and I too must be numb to make the waiting bearable. Some men are born in the shadow of a volcano, we learn to like it or, like Lowry, we run the fury fast behind. Harwood Morning a new day an old disease a silver spoon beside my bed an empty telephone i said something in the safety of the night and once again she's gone Citysailor over the factories and beneath the bridge the sky is burning red sky hanging there like yesterday's kill on hooks redsky in the morning Untitled back to the void wind in my face plunging to the sea coasting looking for a warm spot between the waves For Nadine Bag packed, eyes dry, goodbye, goodbye... I loved you all the way there and back again. I have a past, to warm me on the road, feed me when I'm cold. I have a past, to love me when I'm lonely. I have a past. It is... gentle fingers on my skin, a smile, a touch, a loving look and brown eyes burning into blue. Time, and Again once more a familiar warmth seduces me and the rain caresses me touches me with it's long fingers reninds me of other times times when I was sure just why the rain falls |
|
 First
Previous
2-4 of 4
Next
Last
|
Reply
| |
Nice. Verrry nice. I like 'red sky hanging like yesterday's kill on hooks'. You're so talented! |
|
Reply
| |
Why thank you, I do try... Part of the reason I haven't been around much lately is because I've been trying to put everything I know and have done on paper, (or hard drive, I should say). I have 3 kids and I'd like them to know that I am more than just this guy that popped in and out of their lives for varying periods of time putting them on an emotional roller-coaster. I tink my oldest understands but the younger kids still have issues with me. But it's not only for them... I have more stories and poems in me than I have life left... so I thought I'd best get started... ras |
|
Reply
| |
ahhh yes. Kids do to us, don't they. I mean, want us to better ourselves in some way, any way. Like, making sure they know you were more than just some guy... Your kids will LOVE it when they're older. I kept a bunch of stuff in scrap books, paper and 'baby books' for my kids, when they were real little. Like, little stories that I wrote for them, and how I was feeling when I was pregnant with them, just a bunch of stuff like that. Even some poems! Now, that they are older, and having babies themselves, they really love reading that stuff I kept way back then. But you, you are really talented. Please keep posting when you find the time, okay? |
|
|
First
Previous
2-4 of 4
Next
Last
|
|
|
Free Forum Hosting
Important Announcement
Return to Poetic Freedom