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Mr. Withers
| Open Poetry #6 |
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Mr. Withers |
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Chris Goodman Member
since 2000-01-28
Posts 92Issaquah, Washington usa |
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. Blue Moon |
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| © Copyright 2000 Chris Goodman - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
"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! |
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Chris Goodman Member
since 2000-01-28
Posts 92Issaquah, Washington usa |
Christopher, Thanks for reading Mr. Withers. I think "Life" is "you" and what you make of it. Chris Blue Moon |
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