jim smith

Perspective - Poem by jim smith

Gossamer castles on shifting sand
Charred dreams and life interrupted
Accompanied by smirks at what is done
Like a butcher proffering chops
Freshly bloodied from his ministrations

Damn your world
For I have become a Pan
Following my Muse's crystal laughter
As some ethereal windchime
In consort with honeysuckle scented night breeze
Riffling and snapping pennants
that attend the arrival of Arthur (or Merlin)

There are new things for these old bones to feel
Lightning licked bedrooms
Echoing to thunder felt not heard
Staccato rain on mist webbed windows
Simultaneous crescendos and laughter
Always laughter

Keep your twisted world with all its supplicants
They are few and getting fewer
I shun that which you hold so dear

I prefer the company of wolves

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Comments about Perspective by jim smith

  • (5/17/2007 4:59:00 PM)

    I like this hard, sincere rebelliousness. There's poetic life and sharp teeth in this old dog yet. The best to you. A post modernism fan - as if! jim (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, May 2, 2007

Poem Edited: Sunday, February 20, 2011

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