everybody talking to somebody apart from me.
The birds in the ribs of the trees,
are deep in winged words of discussion,
The man in the ancient red phone box,
speaks in one tone boredom to his wife.
The eastern winds argue with the western winds,
debating in the open sky.
The cars, even the cars communicate,
with flashing lights and horns that hit walls.
Everybody's talking to someone apart from me.
like the alien at a family party,
I stand beside a rainfull of chitter chatter,
and not one single droplet falls on me.
It's not that I know just how lonely you sometimes feel, speaker: you know just how how lonely I sometimes feel. Your imagery is rich and varied - from creatures of nature to man-made, mechanical phenomena. And the metaphor at the end is just so moving. Love it.
dont worry, . poets are all like that. thats why they turn to poetry.
Dear Vincent. You can talk with me if you like. I know the feeling in your poem all too well. Tai no mates, when the sky falls down. 10 cus you express my feelings so well.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a great write Vincent, it flows nicely and is constructed so well, with variety in the lines. Thanks for posting it I enjoyed it very much. Love Ernestine XXX