Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Excuse, accuse, acausal sui generis, me, so we may play at being happy, not mad, glad to be alive in a state of grace, total free being, no strings, save these that tie my shoes to my prayers's feet, because sometimes that's what the old ones said, when miracles were sparse, due to scarcity of seed, such as grew the great cathedrals and the original PTL Network, BTW an entity which seems alive and well, as well may be with that view of time and eternity and relatifity… in such times, prayers need shoes, and shoes need those worthy to tie them. We'll see, is it worthy, we, or must it be me; how would we know if this were worthy as a place? a time? Would we be compelled to admit… worth is what the buyer will bear. Give it away, loose the peace, I'd say. If that were you, I'd say, dia-logos, back and forth, as we climb a stairway to heaven, on broken promises and stolen chords, -- read the news each step, one closer to over c'mon lemme show you where its at, oh child, some men never learn. We win, then we don't brag, we jes' be as we was when first we left things be. No fuss. No fight. Turn out the light.
0
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 2:05 PM UTC
Late-life bedtime advice
Excuse, accuse, acausal sui generis, me, so we may play at being happy, not mad, glad to be alive in a state of grace, total free being, no strings, save these that tie my shoes to my prayers's feet, because sometimes that's what the old ones said, when miracles were sparse, due to scarcity of seed, such as grew the great cathedrals and the original PTL Network, BTW an entity which seems alive and well, as well may be with that view of time and eternity and relatifity… in such times, prayers need shoes, and shoes need those worthy to tie them. We'll see, is it worthy, we, or must it be me; how would we know if this were worthy as a place? a time? Would we be compelled to admit… worth is what the buyer will bear. Give it away, loose the peace, I'd say. If that were you, I'd say, dia-logos, back and forth, as we climb a stairway to heaven, on broken promises and stolen chords, -- read the news each step, one closer to over c'mon lemme show you where its at, oh child, some men never learn. We win, then we don't brag, we jes' be as we was when first we left things be. No fuss. No fight. Turn out the light.
Sat on for a month and found fitting for a now just past
kenpepiton
Written by
77/M/Pine Valley CA
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 2:05 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem