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Open Poetry #13
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wayoutwalt
Member Elite
since 1999-06-22
Posts 4870
TEXAS (it's all big)

0 posted 2001-04-28 02:01 AM


Filth

Speaks volumes
The overbearing bang boom of a too loud tin can
Inside your brain screaming Dirt! Rid me of the dirt!
For I am clean and nothing can save me

Desire

Seeps from pores
In a vast land of Jones where all is pretty much the same
Inside the factories of sweat the workers busy themselves
They will be paid for their want yet who knows when

Happiness

Sours the deal
A boy who rides all the rides wants a bigger park or fewer people
He ends up alone with big toys and inside deals
Money is the root sprung from the color die

Can of cold green beans and no way to heat them

Invigorates survival
Institutes of humility in a district where they direct sinners
Inside I’d love something warm to eat
I have the can the will and the aching lonely stomach

Destitution

The oldest precession
Lines of cars snake past the funeral home and up the drive thru
Inside the sweat of work drips desire for a break from life
The hours read 24/7/365


Alone

A way of life
A place to be in the storm for shelter inside is gained from plywood dreams
Inside I shell myself with the bombs of poets gone before
Each one struck hard. Remembered well.

Remorse

Unfulfilled
The grave was empty as they exhumed. Properly presumed
Still they go through motions digging up the dirt.
The filth under my fingers from raising up my heart

Denial

I can’t believe!
I will end with denial since I did nothing wrong
From what I know of denial it doesn’t last too long
And It makes me write the words for a lovely song

Death

My last chance at life
A windmill to be tackled by a valiant knight
With spear cast in shadow of a veil of truth
Lift up the dying soul and rename this verse


[This message has been edited by wayoutwalt (edited 04-28-2001).]

© Copyright 2001 Walt Burns - All Rights Reserved
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
1 posted 2001-04-28 08:06 AM


Ah Walt...so heavy with weighted passions, I feel the millstone 'round my neck...

TAKE IT OFF!

Seriously....a deep rooted read here...something to come back on ponder on....

Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191
Cape Cod Massachusetts USA
2 posted 2001-04-28 08:41 AM


I agree with Sunshine - I'm gonna have to return to this one a few times to absorb a bit more each time... You're something of an institution yourself, my friend...
Irish Rose
Member Patricius
since 2000-04-06
Posts 10263

3 posted 2001-04-28 09:19 AM


I love cold green beans

Kathleen Blake

"When red-haired girls scamper like roses over the rain-green grass,
and the sun drips honey."
Laurie Lee


Marge Tindal
Deputy Moderator 5 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384
Florida's Foreverly Shores
4 posted 2001-04-28 11:14 AM


Walt~
This piece is scored with intensity~

I particularly enjoyed this snippet~

'Alone

A way of life
A place to be in the storm for shelter inside is gained from plywood dreams
Inside I shell myself with the bombs of poets gone before
Each one struck hard. Remembered well.'


Wonderful !
~*Marge*~

~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
noles1@totcon.com


nakdthoughts
Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200
Between the Lines
5 posted 2001-04-28 07:16 PM


A heavy sigh escapes me, when I read this:

Happiness

Sours the deal
A boy who rides all the rides wants a bigger park or fewer people
He ends up alone with big toys and inside deals
Money is the root sprung from the color die

well you sure  have made your point on this one...

~Wynter

"The worst prison would be a closed heart".
...Pope John Paul II



Amuse_mi
Member
since 2001-04-22
Posts 110

6 posted 2001-04-28 07:26 PM


Intense.
wayoutwalt
Member Elite
since 1999-06-22
Posts 4870
TEXAS (it's all big)
7 posted 2001-04-28 08:41 PM


Emotional Conflict o yuh
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