The spoon tinkles against cheap china
stirring my coffee kaleidoscope
along with my thoughts.
A milky reflection
not giving me a clue
The stormy faces of the lunch crowd
won't spare a question
What am I to do
in this busy world
of theirs?
March 26, 2009
That sweet voice to bitter words
Taste the wandering poets words,
so thick and heavy with
rhyme with no reason
and laced to the edge with cantering flow.
Spin the dreamers web
until the voice is but a sound.
Round and round until the fire dies.
Like what could have been,
it was all just smoke in the end.
Bandages
Bandages.
Covering arm to arm,
leg to leg,
the wounds I have tolerated
from walking in the wilderness since you came back.
Black and blue black and blue
covering the heart we once knew.