COLD abtractions,
whistling birds,
a room full of
possibilitys, and
a heart turned to
stone.
FRAIL words,
flaming fish,
pale waters,
and a compass,
pointing towards
east or west.
BOOM, says man,
boom, says friend,
boom, says me,
boom, untill we all
get it right.
COLD abtractions,
COLD abtractions,
and a child that
leads.
Hi David, This is very different and again you are an unique poet. I like your style of poetry. This one though you sound like your angry about someone or someones behavior. It is hard to say. Your like myself we hide behind our poetry. Either I am straight out or I hide. When things are difficult I write the poem to vent for myself. I think you do the same thing.
DAVID...LOOKS LIKE YOU UNDERSTAND THE UNIQUE ART OF THE POESQUE STYLE MY IDOL, & THE MASTER OF THE SILENT WORD...GREAT WRITE...TEN 4 E.A.P.'''''''''''''''''''''''FRANK
I found this quite frightening as soon as I read the last line.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Three cheers for you. Excellant style.