oh, my capital J
i wish to love you
wish to relish
with heavy breath
your bumbling
word clippings
as mr. ryles
would say
i'd clean after your
sweaty pen's scribbles
dripping monolithic
red yellow green blue
onto the
black pupil,
white globe
of my eye
but,
blink
your lines go by
i feel no different,
no freer, no lighter
no angrier
just sadder, that such
blather, such
depthless flat
colored words
are mistaken for
poetry
have you not heard,
the brown thrush's song,
while drifting off in your father's
arms?
she sings for you and for me
about the ruby colored dawn,
bursting upon the nest of the earth,
overflowing with joy, with life
for you and for me
i want to love you J
through your words,
i really do
but sentimental odes are not made
with shapeless rocks for words, nor
butter knives for tools
sharpen your wits
****** your words
i wait to love you
through your words
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 1:07 AM UTC
oh, my capital J
i wish to love you
wish to relish
with heavy breath
your bumbling
word clippings
as mr. ryles
would say
i'd clean after your
sweaty pen's scribbles
dripping monolithic
red yellow green blue
onto the
black pupil,
white globe
of my eye
but,
blink
your lines go by
i feel no different,
no freer, no lighter
no angrier
just sadder, that such
blather, such
depthless flat
colored words
are mistaken for
poetry
have you not heard,
the brown thrush's song,
while drifting off in your father's
arms?
she sings for you and for me
about the ruby colored dawn,
bursting upon the nest of the earth,
overflowing with joy, with life
for you and for me
i want to love you J
through your words,
i really do
but sentimental odes are not made
with shapeless rocks for words, nor
butter knives for tools
sharpen your wits
****** your words
i wait to love you
through your words
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