It left me thinking, and wondering of those unwritten thoughts that passes now and then, after and before... How we forgot it was there or how it was or like it was never been there but we know it's there, expirations and confusion, some written and others unspoken.... Well done. My friend...
A too active mind has a flood of thoughts rushing through. One after the other. They can’t be contained. It prevents decent sleep. I sense frustration here. Being alone with that flood with no one who can assist in the clear up, must make the situation even worse.
My mind gets flooded to the point, I capture nothing. It’s gone before I can give it full consideration. On to the next thought and the next.
Perhaps, its a sentence we are bound to serve till death...? The repetition makes me feel the frustration of the author who has to deal with more thoughts than he can tackle. Indeed, thoughts are like birds on steroids, pecking away at our fragile mind and soul. It becomes worse when one wakes up in the middle of the night and finds no one next to us to share our fears with. The final part of the poem felt like the frustration of knowing we'll never be able to put down everything we think, on paper. A few choice words take one on such an in-depth journey within.
Posted 1 Year Ago
1 Year Ago
"birds on steroids" my, my, yes. I like that line.
thanks for your words, divya.
they.. read more"birds on steroids" my, my, yes. I like that line.
thanks for your words, divya.
they make more sense than mine ever do.
j.
1 Year Ago
You are a magical poet, my friend. There's always something to pull the reader in.
dear Jacob... this reminds me of the Song-- "If God didn't make little green apples... it doesn't rain in Minneapolis in the Summertime". Bravo. softly, Pat
Originally from Bronx, NY, I live in Carbondale, Illinois...teach English at a community college and have been writing and publishing poetry since 1970. I am here to read for inspiration from other po.. more..