Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Herding flatly in the heat of streets They rise up Expecting rights and comfort all around. But there is none. Well, as a matter of fact there is some (Thanks to Matt Cook we can all be more honest now In poems. Gear-changing - so much fun) For instance, take 1 - 4 above. It's about groups of people in cafes and bars In a hot evening city. I wasn't feeling Like Joining In. So, They were all irritating gits in my eyes All condemned therefore in writing about it. Then and afterwards They were sad desperate zombies, so they were All looking for a fix of pleasure, distraction, coin Of their toil exchanging misery for oblivion and so Doomed Doomed Doomed. But they weren't really Of course. I expect many of them had a truly great time. Staggering laughter, blow-out fun, exuberance Of release - and dancing through the Smoke and din and drink and clashing colours, scents. Maybe in midst someone of special poise Looked felt words across that bar that Roared and rocked them far apart. Then laser quiet unites: A magic channel switching out the noise. Later they loved. It tasted good and lasted. Years, children, garden, wins, Losses, and still some Mayhem Friends - 'Remember that night, and the chap With the crash hat Who just stood and looked? I wonder what happened To him?'
0
May 30, 2010
May 30, 2010 at 11:04 AM UTC
Mayhem Friends
Herding flatly in the heat of streets They rise up Expecting rights and comfort all around. But there is none. Well, as a matter of fact there is some (Thanks to Matt Cook we can all be more honest now In poems. Gear-changing - so much fun) For instance, take 1 - 4 above. It's about groups of people in cafes and bars In a hot evening city. I wasn't feeling Like Joining In. So, They were all irritating gits in my eyes All condemned therefore in writing about it. Then and afterwards They were sad desperate zombies, so they were All looking for a fix of pleasure, distraction, coin Of their toil exchanging misery for oblivion and so Doomed Doomed Doomed. But they weren't really Of course. I expect many of them had a truly great time. Staggering laughter, blow-out fun, exuberance Of release - and dancing through the Smoke and din and drink and clashing colours, scents. Maybe in midst someone of special poise Looked felt words across that bar that Roared and rocked them far apart. Then laser quiet unites: A magic channel switching out the noise. Later they loved. It tasted good and lasted. Years, children, garden, wins, Losses, and still some Mayhem Friends - 'Remember that night, and the chap With the crash hat Who just stood and looked? I wonder what happened To him?'
c. Jeremy Ducane 2010
jeremy-ducane
Written by
May 30, 2010
May 30, 2010 at 11:04 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem