Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2013
Fingers point in to seal what
allows waves to enter. It happens
naturally, attempting to
keep out a
sound linked to a dream.
Each day more deferred.
Singing along does
nothing but intensify it,
leaving my throat dry.
Eyes wander up
to the sky like
it has the answer. A
desire the size of a raisin.
hidden deep with in
bleakness; the
noise blinded by the sun.
Inside cues are unheard or
overlooked; left to fester.
Tunes once vibrant like
fireflies illuminating a
black field create a sore
unrecognized. Oblivious and
ignorant. Then
is what I run
away from; yet it does
not make the hum disappear; it
only dissolves the stink
to an unnoticeable hint like
bread rotten.
My core once full of meat.
I marched to the beat or
maybe it formed a crust
around all thoughts and
notified me when sugar
oozed out over
the brim of my truth. Like
examples before I fall prey to a
slide syrupy
and sweet
pulling me away. Maybe
I am scared it
will be just
perfect. Skin sags
as time passes like
light wind, unfelt; a
sensation soul heavy
fumbling to un-load.
Yesterday I began to listen or
correctly hear what does
exist confined. It
is looking to explode.
This is written in the form of a golden shovel which Terrance Hayes uses. If you read each end word of each line you will be reading one of my all time favorite poems by Langston Hughes called A Dream Deferred. The entire poem is made up of two poems; I wrote the poem that leads left to right.
Khrystle Rea
Written by
Khrystle Rea
Please log in to view and add comments on poems