The clouds passed ominous

Folder: 
2018

It's hard to understand what to make of it.

The timing was right but I played with it.

 

The sun shone orange.

The rose wasn't thorned

And the music had changed

With my name in it. 

 

In the window, we saw the stars

Exploding as they were fireworks.

 

We had been told

That we looked too old

So we hid our face

With our hat as our mold. 

 

They told me things

But my mind was dinged

With a twisted type 

Of programming

 

So my fears came alive

As I tried to deny

That the voices were yours

That I heard in his eyes

 

That in itself brought me to light

But the man I was with

Didn't feel so right

 

I knew it was wrong

Yet I still hung on

Trying to hear

The end to our song

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

It's kinda like free writing without feeling free to write

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SSmoothie's picture

Fucking gorgeous! Dying with

Fucking gorgeous! Dying with envy. Feel so uninspired by much these days... but this... WOW!


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

Morningglory's picture

Well...

I hope to read what comes of it. Always happy to inspire!

I don't know if you would even believe the experiences I have had that formed the words in this piece.. If only I could just put the puzzled picture together in the way I saw/felt/heard. Little by little...

And hey, Thanks for the inspiring me over the yrs! Your works have had a great influence with me. :)


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allets's picture

Loved Flow & Content

Extraordinary write! The sounds, the poem's general mood - right there at"

"So my fears came alive/As I tried to deny/That the voices were yours/That I heard in his eyes..." (This has everything a poet dreams of writing).


 

 

Morningglory's picture

Thanka

It felt chopy to me but that might have to do with how I felt the time. Those lines that you quoted are dead on. 

Appreciate your comment!


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Starward's picture

Sometimes, free writing is

Sometimes, free writing is best when one isn't free to write.  I think if you look at some of the dissident poets of the Soviet era, that idea definitely has been tested over there.  I read once that one of the poets, Mandlestam I think, said, that only the Soviet Union took poetry seriously, because they were willing to have a poet shot for it.


Starward

 

Morningglory's picture

Glad to have my hands

Wasnt there a poet who lost a hand over his writing. My mind can't seem to place a name with that story. I suppose it is up to us to be brave and write anyway. Or just remain...cryptic.


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Starward's picture

Can't think of who that is,

Can't think of who that is, or was, but I am sure many poets have been mutilated by the many dictatorial regimes in this world.


Starward

 

Morningglory's picture

Scary

What government's will do to quiet truthful voices....


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