Open Poetry #40 |
Penny Man |
Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
There’s a point When I turn Into myself, It’s never special, It’s where the Porch slants low, As if the more I stand, I become a foreigner, With hair so blonde, I rise among yellow, When drums of black Ricochet off of The statues sewn Throughout the land I limp on. My mistake is I’m a boy Wearing pants That should fit The corners of A mans steel hips. Instead, I linger, My eyes and ears Wander with tunnels That mate as cars Change gears To the fuel that dries Quicker than the feet of my soul. The penny always dashes, Quicker than my eyes can think. |
||
© Copyright 2007 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
Drauntz Member Elite
since 2007-03-16
Posts 2905Los Angeles California |
beautiful. enjoyed |
||
Nightingale Junior Member
since 2007-06-21
Posts 31Depths of The Unkown, UK |
A penny for your thoughts! |
||
Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Thank you for the responses.. |
||
Klassy Lassy Member Elite
since 2005-06-28
Posts 2187Oregon |
This poem brought me back to read it several times. A penny is a pittance, but I see a treasure here. Awesome! Klassy |
||
Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Thanks Klassy...happy you enjoyed. |
||
aziza Member Elite
since 2006-07-09
Posts 2995Lumpy Oatmeal makes me Crazy! |
Wonderful writing and I particularly like these lines - My mistake is I’m a boy Wearing pants That should fit The corners of A mans steel hips. Alison |
||
⇧ top of page ⇧ | ||
All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. |