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donall-dempseyPoems
A COUPS DE POURQUOI Time waiting like a lowly servant coughing politely every now and then to remind them that ahem...the world is...waiting their ********** laughing "So, let it...wait!" The world tapping a toe impatiently eyes turned up to Heaven Time shrugging its shoulders in a "what-can-I do" way. She laughs at her and him ( it was always her and him ) puppets now of the imagination memory's home movie Time's revenge remembering how it had been now how the train hurtles through a darkness her reflection made of night and cold glass hung there suspended staring into her own crying eyes knowing it could never last what a fool she'd been she scorned herself she this living painting of the past Reality once again getting the upper hand Time and the World put in their place the expensive meal uneaten on the plate the ship leavng the town behind slowly so reluctant to do so before distance and the dark take control 'til the town too is nothing but a memory hostage to the past Jacques Brel's voice lost inside her head "...a coups de pourquoi..." Now, here, somewhere in mid-Atlantic she finds herself in the middle of nowhere the middle of nowhere exactly where she wanted to be "oublier le temps oublier le temps oublier le temps."
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Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 8:39 AM UTC
A COUPS DE POURQUOI
A COUPS DE POURQUOI Time waiting like a lowly servant coughing politely every now and then to remind them that ahem...the world is...waiting their ********** laughing "So, let it...wait!" The world tapping a toe impatiently eyes turned up to Heaven Time shrugging its shoulders in a "what-can-I do" way. She laughs at her and him ( it was always her and him ) puppets now of the imagination memory's home movie Time's revenge remembering how it had been now how the train hurtles through a darkness her reflection made of night and cold glass hung there suspended staring into her own crying eyes knowing it could never last what a fool she'd been she scorned herself she this living painting of the past Reality once again getting the upper hand Time and the World put in their place the expensive meal uneaten on the plate the ship leavng the town behind slowly so reluctant to do so before distance and the dark take control 'til the town too is nothing but a memory hostage to the past Jacques Brel's voice lost inside her head "...a coups de pourquoi..." Now, here, somewhere in mid-Atlantic she finds herself in the middle of nowhere the middle of nowhere exactly where she wanted to be "oublier le temps oublier le temps oublier le temps."
donall-dempsey
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donall-dempsey
Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 8:39 AM UTC
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