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jordan-p-sandersPoems
I often forget who I am         or at least who I’d like to be I often can’t see straight         and figments of symbols become me I feel the night’s baroque intention,         I lay wasted in the kitchen            Asking the gods for forgiveness On warm days I’m a traveler         betrothed to the road of existence Leather-tramping for purpose with         Time as my mistress She allows me passage into the night,         and all she requires is patience I manage a smile during this trial by fire,         ashes blacken my palms with a vengeance Soot covered eyelashes flicker         faster than the flame that birthed them And when I’m finally judged as guilty,         I won’t be surprised    I knew this moment was coming.
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Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 9:50 AM UTC
Poem 001
I often forget who I am         or at least who I’d like to be I often can’t see straight         and figments of symbols become me I feel the night’s baroque intention,         I lay wasted in the kitchen            Asking the gods for forgiveness On warm days I’m a traveler         betrothed to the road of existence Leather-tramping for purpose with         Time as my mistress She allows me passage into the night,         and all she requires is patience I manage a smile during this trial by fire,         ashes blacken my palms with a vengeance Soot covered eyelashes flicker         faster than the flame that birthed them And when I’m finally judged as guilty,         I won’t be surprised    I knew this moment was coming.
jordan-p-sanders
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jordan-p-sanders
30/M/American
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 9:50 AM UTC
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