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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
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 love, but not as we know it."
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. :)
Copyright © morningglory
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).
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!
Copyright © morningglory
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
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.
Copyright © morningglory
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
Scary
What government's will do to quiet truthful voices....
Copyright © morningglory