A Limited Conversation   6 comments

In old men’s wisdom I listened to their words,
for to drink an ocean, it has to start with one sip

I walked the road I did not want to write
and found it potholed with clichés and metaphors

It was there, under great lights, that a thousand hands
struck and blew my mind on cigarettes

I’ll put you in the picture

I put her heart back where I found it
for it had been done to death by poets

I am a reader with small thoughts and there
between the stone roses I read her words

The sound in her writing; as her words cried the
ink ran and a score of blackbirds flew from the paper

I have often thought of myself born too early

“Alright sweet bird, now fly away” she cried
with sun beating down on milling crowd of ghosts

“She looks like …..” then the voice trails off to a whisper
before saying, “someone I knew”

The band played goodnight as snippets
of overheard conversations lay rested on the floor

When did they turn the lights off?


Posted 13/08/2012 by DarKarsean in Musing, poem, poetry, Uncategorized

6 responses to “A Limited Conversation

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  1. you are just wonderful….

  2. So beautiful a reader might wish it had been written about her.

  3. Intriguing

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