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 Apr 2013 Sultana
JL
Untitled
 Apr 2013 Sultana
JL
The whole poetry thing is horse crap
I've read better words on receipt backs
Prescription Pill Bottles
Labels Billboards Words
Spilling out in a constant horde
Fire Please light it all on fire
I'll watch your words pour black smoke
A burning tire
Some people wake up
To automatic gunfire
Primate, your environment constantly spins
Living in holes smoking crack with your
"Friends"
Tuned out I step from a third story window
Leaving two daughters and a pill head widow
Tired of seeing my pack torn apart from within
Alcohol sleeping pills its fun to pretend
Just trying to be alive! But
My poetry comes out so cheap and contrived
 Apr 2013 Sultana
Timothy Brown
Wandering through mornings
Cloaked in night
Silence resounding
 Pausing for a red light



                                                        ­          Camels running through a desert  lung
                                                    ­                          Iced tea becomes an oasis
                                                        May­be smoke, Maybe air, a need-to-know basis
                                                           ­          Harder to tell as filter meets tongue


Cloaked in night
 Silence resounding
 Wandering through mornings
Pausing for a red light


                                                         ­                                                                 ­                       Thought to think
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                               of opinions
                                                        ­                                                                 ­                                    in spite of
                                                              ­                                                                 ­                            reflections.
                                                                ­                                                                 ­        Notions and concepts
                                                        ­                                                                 ­                                 birth ideas;
                                                                ­                                                               grandchildren of the mind.




Silence resounding
Wandering through mornings
Pausing for a red light
 Cloaked in night
                                                           ­                     
                                                                ­          

                                                     ­                      Purpose lost within frosty
                                                                ­          air through a thin white T.
                                                              ­          Crashing thoughts parallel E-
                                                              ­                 Y-E lids amid empty
                                                                ­                  lots and streets.

                                                               ­               
Pausing for a red light
Silence resounding
Wandering through mornings
Cloaked in night
I like to walk and drive around in the early hours of the morning. These are actually concepts of several different poems.
© April 10th, 2013 by Timothy Brown. All rights reserved.

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