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Open Poetry #18
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Epitaph
| Open Poetry #18 |
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Epitaph |
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mauddib Member
since 2002-01-12
Posts 119melbourne australia |
Shouldering apathy like a war wound not recognised, I creep. Among images of regret that chase me in my bed, and forgets me to be alone, or to retreat, from fishing for victories. I; To complete, Compete for happy endings that rent me respect, Like bright colored balloons that distract or better, The left in ruin rooms of halfway homes that sacrifice, Yet ask you to wash their feet, Before you gloat familiar among themselves, Stand naked, Like David, Upon a shelf. Where authors and poets, That beg like too much ripe fruit, Stand ready, Aim, And introduce, The tradesmen and athletes, that cut corners in conversation like art, Their faint hearts too quick depart, Like leaves, As if I were the tree. Or fall asleep upon a page, Where I remain, A silent antique question, Bleeding ink, Vomiting reasons in the sink, as I stand upon the brink of accusations that congregate, and hasten, that beckonning blade of ammending sentence. That flirts the criminal intent, and returns me to my room, forever, Innocent. |
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| © Copyright 2002 greg connors - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Morcastlin Member
since 2002-01-14
Posts 244The Jersey Shore, USA |
This had a very interesting and original style! Very creative! Bravo! Love, Bonnie |
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Irish Rose Member Patricius
since 2000-04-06
Posts 10263 |
This is quite excellent. Kathleen--(Kay) |
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