"untermensch" poems
Time wasters
Talk circles around my rolling eyes,
Nothing escapes them
But the point
Which is now ground duller than their wit.
Once proud pinnacles of though
Cannot be distinguished from
Littered words crusading for air.
Sunken cities subsist on stale ideas
And move feebly into tomorrow
As they shake the claws of yesterday
Only to suffer today.
But new ideas breathe resurrection
As chaos polishes the rusted ring
And births a dancing star.
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 2:50 PM UTC