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Open Poetry #41
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City Hours
| Open Poetry #41 |
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City Hours |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
I can feel I’m tired, I don’t listen when the sun rises Adjacent to the memories that Dress the wooden tiles that beneath me. That beneath the nearest train, Raveling the window faced stores, Playing with one another off The corner of the Eastside street, As the pebbles sleep in-between The cracks coffined next to the two lane streets With each piece of a different story Sitting side by side in the left Corner of each cars seep. The day caves, Docks the nights harbor Where the 5th floor apartment sleep. Their eyes a nights dim, Tomorrow, every hour. |
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| © Copyright 2008 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
There is a very special feel to this poem. You painted an impressive picture. Their eyes a nights dim, Tomorrow, every hour. love, Margherita |
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TomMark Member Elite
since 2007-07-27
Posts 2133LA,CA |
I can feel I’m tired, I don’t listen when the sun rises Adjacent to the memories that Dress the wooden tiles that beneath me. The rails? Who knows past, today and future and he is tired. That beneath the nearest train, Raveling the window faced stores, Playing with one another off The corner of the Eastside street, As the pebbles sleep in-between The cracks coffined next to the two lane streets With each piece of a different story Sitting side by side in the left Corner of each cars seep. the city life reflected in the train window. The day caves, Docks the nights harbor Where the 5th floor apartment sleep. Their eyes a nights dim, Tomorrow, every hour. the economy? This is a very interesting poem and i like to read it. but i surely not know if i get it.  |
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