a decoupage of lines glued together

a decoupage of lines glued together
collectively adhering like damp leaves
in a fall rain 
leaving words left to hang
like the lingering smoke of a cheap cigar
can you hear Me 
Imagine a vivid snow capped plateau
with a lemon yellow sun that glows serenely 
reflecting like a prism off the ice cycles 
feel the cold wind as it blows 
call it home
there are people in my life,
that don't really know who I am.
In this darkness though
there is one who knows 
the sorrow of the damned
understands the black demon
and rage inside of me.

my thoughts expressed 
left for them to misconstrue
and muddle the meaning

we call it poetry

~ D Donner ~

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SSmoothie's picture

Its been nearly 2 years and

Its been nearly 2 years and still miss you like crazy! Xx hugss

Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS    

"Well, it's life SIMS, but not as we know it" - ¡$&am

Ground's picture


We miss your words, Daniel. Merry Christmas where ever you are.

© Ground

allets's picture

"We call it poetry"


Like a found poem,

torn and turned brown

as age declared ownership,

we are rediscovered

and thought of as poetic

gods who walked among

humans disguised 

as writers.





Rest warrior troubadour ~S~