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Rob Cohen
Poems
Nov 2020
the passion of creation
prelude
sitting
strumming
steel strings
blackbirds feed and sing
speeding cars pass
rattling ice cubes
in a whiskey glass
on the wall
a misty painting
where blue smoke
and cherry trees
meet
fade in
curtains open
spreading the scene
for hungry eyes
wide
absorbing
every trace
in a dizzying
trance
lights flash
reflecting
three masked figurines
slumping in a stupor
weaving their dance
cast a bone
on stage
prism horsemen
fly
fur coats
fall flaming
lending hands
at crossroad skies
roll over
listen
whispers laced bright
lips turn white
clenched teeth bite silent
dying of the night
fade out
darkness spreads
peeling off the backdrop
walls close
through you
dressed in costumes
buttons and zips
the rail leans empty
fading into mist
follow the road
down the blinking tunnel
funneling scripted verse
bowing in roses
spread
across the floor
disappearing in a blink
falling
through the trapdoor
curtains wail
shrieking
halting to a close
words dead
finished
burnt pile of ash
buried pages
torn into pieces
scattered in the trash
au revoir
Artwork: Leonid Pasternak - The Passion of creation
Written by
Rob Cohen
30/M/Cape Town
(30/M/Cape Town)
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