"bagpack" poems
She stares
With a bagpack and a ribbon in her hair
I care
But the words have never left my tongue
I'm concerned she's scared
Of how I treat myself
It makes me fear
What she will do
It was only the tip of the iceburg
What if she only knew?
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 6:42 AM UTC
TV static precedes
Vh1 music,
lazying flips
of daily newspages,
flush, brush and coffee sips
“Are you done??” and the routine quips,
hot iron thumps,
belts clinging, ties zipping,
Footsteps scurrying,
hurrying,
shoes polish and
'almost forgot my house keys'
Check!
bid the byes and
the door
Locked,
Silence
...... Escalating,
loud, intensifying,
hum of vaccum, peaked
consistent, steady,
lo! the sleep friendly fan
with helpless, nagging,
dying grunts,
A turf war.
a wince, and
a hostile rustle
a body moves,
the blankets ruffle
and creases fold,
looking over
a still life canvas,
No voice of motive
the speechless lone
traveller could hear,
Nor a whisper of reason,
for his morning bag pack,
Waiting still,
for its season,
for destiny's sound
of enunciation.
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 9:37 AM UTC
So many want to live like Kerouac
But who is ready to do their bagpack ?
Come a day when we want to leave on the road.
- Come on ! Makes your backpack and go
- But where ?
- We don't know
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 12:18 PM UTC