It is during these moments when,
the whole world seems asleep,
and the lights from the lamposts,
are burning bright for the foxes.
I have an intense craving to
go down stairs wearing nothing
but my skin,
whilst carrying my book of poems
Walk into the rainforest
resembling garden,
and burn them all,
Watching the once honest words
rise up into the black sky,
stolen by the wind,
never to return again.
Then I think of the morning,
and how the sun can change a mood,
instead I cuddle up to my dreaming lover,
and hope to meet her in our dreams.
Perhaps just like a phoenix, whilst looking into the flames you will see your greatest work being born before your very eyes.Hold on to that feeling and translate it into words before you see the embers turn to ashes. Love Duncan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
On reading lines 6-7, Vincey, I felt a certain, er, sensation...: -) Another honest and open poem that can't help but win a reader's sympathy. And as Thompson says, the finish really sticks. Vincey, I seriously hope you're not having a 'pants' weekend! : -) Warm regards, Gina.