I need concrete with sharp corners
Green waves crashing onto rocks
Brisk air and salty stares
Wings on birds, cats with claws
Fast dogs and circus scares
I need clocks and border stops
To get to heaven you need these things
Playground noises and bumblebees
Honest chocolate, gold with diamond rings
Death knocks on death day while children
Usually arrive at the ninth month
I sling my disappointments at the sun
Outlaw Monday with Sunday laws
Appeal on Thursday for Friday's brawl
Break early across the bow of the mine trawler
I need spiders in the web
And flowers for fun and seeds
In the midnight ground, never found again
West coast crackers on a pidgeon plate
Monks slashing rubber relief
Long bridges, tall hills, and nano states
I pull the ribbon on the package
To let bows fly over midge eyes
Paper crumpled on fresh trimmed grass
Royal blue Bells poised on the lawn
No trump of cards dealt
Without a pair of long johns, or sin
Impenetrable architecture I dismantle my own
Socialized assembly, to need life without power plays
I need out of my way in
Your poems are always so filled with things that make me think. I especially loved the though of slinging my disappointments at the sun! Great line. Sincerely, Mary
Incredible write, Tailor. So much to praise, so much to contemplate. So much to wonder about. If there is such a thing as a Cubist poem, this is one. - Will
'I sling my disappointments at the sun' That line really stood out for me Thankyou Tailor Love duncan X
A collage of seemingly unrelated items and ending with a line that gives it a truely photomontage feel. Very artsy, Tailor... well done! Brian
Tailor this is excellent the way you have blended all these aspects of life and the end got me I must admit didnt expect it at all! ! Séamus
Yes, honest chocolate and honest Mondays, indeed. Bring 'em on! I'm putting this into my favorites for a rainy day. You have a nice pace and way with words. I hope to see more of your poems here. Cheers, Lori
I see this all coming in a flash to you Me, I find it hard to see you coming back to this adding lines to it over a day or two one great read for me, perfect poem.
You my friend are not a word smith you are the word smitty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Deep thought, delightful read.