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Open Poetry #48
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666
California

0 posted 2013-11-12 01:48 AM



Hoops


The hoops are laid out, one by one;
I recognize them all.
I jump and jump; life ain't no fun,
Knowing you're bound to fall.
Red for anger, and blue for calm,
I play them all so well—
Close door each night with empty palm.
My friends, I'm going to hell.

When life's a lie you play your part,
Bound by some obligation;
Knowing what wounds you could impart
In each falsified station.
Each day, 'wonder, "Is this the one
Where it will all come down?"
A tapestry of dream undone
By collusion's renown.

And so you jump, and jump again,
Forseeing each outcome.
A game you know you'll never win,
Paced to a dying drum.
The echo fades with each notion
Till life has turned you numb...
'Wake to onslaughts of emotion,
Wound like a pendulum.

You see it burn, and so you turn—
Jump through a hoop, now black.
A lesson you will never learn,
There ain't no going back.
You twist, and sigh— look to the sky;
Watch new hoops start to fall.
Yellow cowardice, green a lie;
I have jumped through them all.


Michael Anderson

11/09/2013

© Copyright 2013 Michael Anderson - All Rights Reserved
Gunslinger
Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 901
TX, USA
1 posted 2013-11-12 10:16 AM


I do understand, my friend. I especially like the phrase..."to the beat of a dying drum", write on!
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