shimon weinroth Poems

comes in and on, waves undulating
oscillating, caressing, fondling, tickling
agitating and moving, flows with the rivers
of emotions, fantasy, whims and dreams
...

on my desk,
there sits a rock
crystalline and hard,
whose aomic weight
...

alchohol of drink goes in
dormant spirits come out,
other sly spirits enter, stir up
memory of secrets devout,
...

there is a lighthouse in my head,
and a beacon in my mind,
that beaches any wayward bark,
warns my ship to keep afloat
...

the sun still high in the sky,
soon slowly sinks,
the beams shrink,
almighty presence ebbing,
...

echoing of Sophocles, Milton, and Wordsworth.
Prometheus Bound and Unbound,
evoke thoughts and memories
that in earnest sought
...

gone is the individuality I sought,
I am one of many
I am one of too many,
I am no different than so many
...

there is a grumbling in my stom-ache
a rumbling in my mind,
thoughts flit and fly
the channels and passage ways,
...

a request made,
negotiations have come to life,
an exchange takes place,
or refusal, temporary or final,
...

I hate going to airports,
to lose myself among so many,
I detest the crowds of flesh,
bags and baggage,
...