OLD tubs with clawed
feet, doors thrown open
from a midnight breeze,
orchestras playing in
your head, listen closely
your momma says, your like
this one, i wrote it when i
was just a kid.
TAKE me to your leader my
friends say, how sad that
they had to ask, or even
think that i would lead.
STILL the orchestra plays,
listen closely your momma
says, i wrote this when
i was just a kid.
OLD tubs with clawed feet,
and a spiritual back round,
that explodes when they
turn on the lights.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great images David........your poems are sometimes so ''out there'' they are very interesting and seem so cryptic. (or maybe I'm just stupid) but, they really make me think.......that's a compliment! Sometimes the images in your poems stick with me and leave me with a feeling that I need to figure out ''the message''. Great work. Sincerely, Mary