Seven Four Five Poem by Jason Pacheco

Seven Four Five

Rating: 4.3


Some kind of mumbling out
In the hall.
A Multi-language hum from one,
To another,
With the smell of my cat.
I can see the large cross on top of Notre Dame.
Lots of vibrations mixed here,
Shifting from a shape called Earth.
This city is a collage of warped life,
Burned by a hypocritical sun.

Shaving as well as the daily rinse off.
I want to smoke,
To release some dirt.
There are barbed wire fences
Tied to the veins in my body.
Waiting for A-man to bring the Smurf houses,
Of the Holy.
The waiting game is the hardest part.
Already made a few calls.
Don't want to be a pain,
It ruins the glory that comes with the expansion.

Let freedom ring.
Happy Birthday America, you crab you.
Waiting……
Took an excursion,
Prepared salad,
Dig?

Ate down some pies,
Now the movement is great.
The movement.

Clowned webs cover the sidewalks,
Pleasant Street is crimped.
A Cambodian woman has vanished into the wall.
There is no shovel here,
To condense the smitten turnstile.
I repent and consent for a dashboard to pounce on,
Or, a talon to pick an itch on my organ topper.
There is only this corridor,
Leading to seasons with doorways to other seasons.
Minions,
A suffered minion takes a hand towards the sun and hopes that it will come close enough to warm my dreams.
My dreams, My dreams.

So,
No parts lofty,
I sense the Lord!
The world seams thick
With milkshake winds,
Could it be a boo in a who?
Who knew?
This place is a zoo.
Notes ring out in my head,
Symphonic sonic hum.
Enough.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Paul Sebastian 20 March 2014

Living each day is well capsulated. Good write.

0 0 Reply
Kevin Patrick 26 March 2013

This was absolutely brilliant, the imagery was thought provoking and the language was witty and spontaneous, it ebbed with lots of power a big 10 up

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Jason Pacheco

Jason Pacheco

Fall River, Massachusetts
Close
Error Success