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Passions in Poetry

Mr. Withers

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Chris Goodman
Member
since 01-28-2000
Posts 95
Issaquah, Washington usa


0 posted 02-12-2000 03:07 PM       View Profile for Chris Goodman   Email Chris Goodman   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Chris Goodman

He was driving down the road in his old Mercedes Benz.
He turned on the radio so he could listen in.
A woman and guitar sang a lullaby about the pain and torture
A man can cause his wife.

Staring down the wheel and staring into space
Old Dead Poet makes love to sorrow and hate.
The wreckage of 1960 was one more that we now know
Old Man gets up for fate to take him home.

“Nostalgia fills the air like a bad odor.
Old journals make decoration; their debut was nothing worth reading.
Empty boxes once filled with empty treasures house a hallway.
An Inarco vase has become a coffin to Lily and Rose.
Dust and cobwebs address the galley fireplace.
Balmain and Dior hide their beauty behind old plastic bags.
An oak case shelf Love’s Deity and Darkness.”

He read his favorite piece time & time again.
Old Man had written how his life would end.
The start of life you see rests between your walls
If you forget to nurture life
Life forgets it all.



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© Copyright 2000 Chris Goodman - All Rights Reserved
Christopher
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Member Rara Avis
since 08-02-99
Posts 9130
Purgatorial Incarceration


1 posted 02-13-2000 03:49 AM       View Profile for Christopher   Email Christopher   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Christopher

"Life forgets it all."

Interesting take. I understand where you're going, but don't necessarily agree!   I think life never forgets, 'tis only we who do so! Cool out-take here!
Chris Goodman
Member
since 01-28-2000
Posts 95
Issaquah, Washington usa


2 posted 02-13-2000 02:20 PM       View Profile for Chris Goodman   Email Chris Goodman   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Chris Goodman

Christopher,
Thanks for reading Mr. Withers.
I think "Life" is "you" and what
you make of it.

Chris

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