I like writing poetry. Not all of it is going to be a historical epic or an ode to something. These are like little glimpses of the subway in my mind; my train of thought isn't always artsy or symbolic or deep or meaningful, but I like to think that art takes ordinary things and makes people see a sort of beauty in them. So, look around- I've been doing this for a while. Enjoy ♥
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Friday, April 22, 2011
Fire
movement now brings sounds
reminiscent of a fire,
feeding on my bones
instead of wood. in
the morning, dragging
myself out of bed (pop);
in the afternoon,
stretching my back
(snap snap snap);
in the evening, collapsing
into bed (crack).
no warmth, only a dull ache
and audible reminder
of deterioration,
like erosion
and rust.
Seriously, you guys. It's getting ridiculous. Knees, hips, back, shoulders, elbows. Slowly falling apart here.
Labels:
age,
deterioration,
erosion,
fire,
rust,
snap crackle pop,
sound,
time
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1 comment:
ahhh no, falling apart! hopefully you aren't. lovely imagery though, now i want to make a bonfire and go camping.
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