Treasure Island

Wicked Mike

(South Africa)

Crossroads


Always in want
Never achieving
A pursuit of something that’s always a nothing
vacuums the heart
so that peace becomes death
and death is life
and life is tempting
But it’s an uncertain living;
ethereal and god-like,
or regressive and primitive
Which way to go,
up or down?
And what if there aren’t ups or downs
but only sideward ventures
that’ll leave us guessing forever?
These are the crossroads.

Submitted: Thursday, February 09, 2006

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Comments about this poem (Crossroads by Wicked Mike )

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  • Zahraa Song (2/13/2006 5:13:00 AM)

    Great poem, I love poems that make me think. This poem had me earnest thought.... Zainab (Report) Reply

  • Solomon Brook (2/9/2006 2:25:00 PM)

    What a Wicked poem, man. Love the originality of it. I like the lines:
    'vacuums the heart
    so that peace becomes death
    and death is life
    and life is tempting'

    Keep up the spirit Mike. (Report) Reply

Read all 3 comments »

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