This is a poem I wrote back in 1998. Tell me what you think, good or bad. (On where I am is the title)
The garden path round the house
Springs in my face as I fall.
I lose my step and my hold
On the waist-high, lavender wall.
The flowers sewn in my hand
Writhe in this puddle of mud
Their petals are colored as bright
As the night's long echoing flood.
Yet the path as it narrows beneath
The weight of my sighs and my skin
In front of my eyes it doubles,
Wider grows, though each one is thin.
The daylight pouring in drops,
Great orange disks of time,
Rolls down the razor edge roof
Of Everest, to begin to climb
The expansive mouth of my yawn.
As I sink in the quicksand of feeling
Fire balls galaxies wide
Enter and I land reeling.
I like it!
ReplyDeleteI like the way "waist-high, lavender wall" tumbles out of my mouth.
Very deep and I like the end part, "As I sink in the quicksand of feeling
ReplyDeleteFire balls galaxies wide
Enter and I land reeling." I don't know why I like it it just sounds good.
Thanks, I'm glad you liked my poem.
ReplyDelete