|Thief Of Time
Supposed to have lived it,
memoirs red inked,
mother of all invention.
Go on, test me.
Any year, any place, any time.
I can even name the sublime days I wasted,
each and every one,
a bunch of sights, smells, tastes long gone.
The rest blurred, save one deserted lane,
soft rain falling over silence,
the distant calling thrush I thought I heard.
not one spoken word, I'm singing in the rain ,
while walking down an empty lane,
accompanying songs of birds.
31 Dec 08
Rated 10 (10) by 1 users.
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why do today what you can put off until tomorrow
are your hands gone asleep from your sedentary weight upon them?
i thought the poem was gonna be all about neediness and hardship
due to the necessity displayed in line 3
i don't regret it
your memories of cliche' seem to be intruding on any poetic vision and intuition. let me test you: why do you think this is a poem? because it's got funny line breaks?
Sorry geeko, I would have to bone up before taking any test and as my knowledge is limited and my time severely stretched I'll just leave it as shit for you to make your usual cliche comments on.
Larry empty head Lark
I just chucked a bit of Zappa in for the sheer hell of it
Larry weasels rip my flesh Lark