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Open Poetry #48
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Wasting Time
| Open Poetry #48 |
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Wasting Time |
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soul drifter Senior Member
since 2004-09-08
Posts 711Colorado |
Wasting Time She descended the night with Art Nouveau gypsy feathers and a far too lethal pout the talk between us is a pretty gun cooling inside still loaded with fear and doubt Well she pulled down a dusted star from the cloudy sky shelf one to remember him to remember when she was still just herself and he cut down a nightly tress and decorated her with flames burned to the point of wearing thin to be wearing that awkward love just like a frame And she pulled up through the night when it became too intense too much wasted time wasted like hearts too drunk to make sense and he ripped up a daily dream and reacquainted with the dawn sad to the point of flying blind to be flying those wider skies just like a song She ascended the light with Art Deco body secrets and a cagy bluebird eye the talk between us is a waking sun wasting time shades coded red in every sigh Well she pulled down a lusted star from the shimmer sky dome one to consider him to consider this a remedy to dreaming alone and he cut down a nightly mess and stumbled through the ennui useless to the point of giving in to be giving that awkward love not entirely for free And she descended the night with Art Nouveau gypsy feathers and a far too lethal pout the walk between us is a sacred gap never to be crossed infinity seas like dreams, the cork is tossed the bottle broken on hopes within, without cannons ablaze and I'm still loaded I'm still loaded with this streak of fear and doubt Too much wasted time wasted on hearts too drunk to make much sense and I slipped on a lazy dream and repositioned the dawn sad to the point of broken rhyme to be broke and floating skies just like a song just like a song "I will hang on the hook of your splendor" -Snow Patrol, 'Dark Roman Wine' |
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| © Copyright 2012 Zach Hilgefort - All Rights Reserved | |||
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
Whew! I am totally drunk on this – my head is spinning faster than a child’s toy wooden top, first his way then hers in quick succession! What a magnificent outpouring of 19th century dark passions! I will have to read this again . . . and again . . . and again . . . . to drink the last dregs of its intricacy, and I will, because I don’t want to miss a drop. I love the way you blend into the ‘he’. Every word, every image, every artistic splendour, of this is perfect, and that ending . . . oh, that ending . . . This has to be your chef-d’œuvre of all time! And to think that because of a lack of time, I nearly didn’t read “Wasting Time” – how enrichened I nearly wasn’t! Ouch! Thank you! Wow! More wow! I hate that you have to feel that way, but oh looooooooooook what you created with the experience! Owl |
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BluesSerenade Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549By the Seaside |
Your poetry always takes me to a good place. There is so much human emotion that I can identify with, and your choice of words is uncanny! You are a fine writer soul drifter and I adore reading you. Happy Holidays to you, good poet~ |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Very nice...just like a song...James |
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