Your Life Will Stop

An experiment of sorts - this one may take time to sort through! Enjoy!

Yearning for a time where fear crept not within me,

Our petty need to feel safe slashes at my cortex,

Under piles of memories are the real truths,

Rounded heads have corners to hit and vex.

 

Letters never read bound in more and more paper,

Inside my hands the bones will knurl and fail,

Filling empty pots with wine never to drink,

Even thirst has no hope like women on a rail.

 

Winter beckons to blood so to spill and gush,

I need crowds of bearded fellows of laughter,

Little spots rear their horrid yellow heads atop,

Light purchases times for us to dance and show garters.

 

Still people listen hard to the words spoken in jest,

Tender moments pass horridly without notice or sight,

Olive carpets through patterns to dazzle and confuse,

Potted plants now withered lye strewn on our plight.

Author's Note

Honety!

Reviews

[Quattro Hall]

wow Thomas this was great! great job detailing the emotions. you place the reader in the world in this. letting them taste the emotions you are portraying.

[Frieda P]

Yearning for the same my friend, this is outstanding...honestly! Sad potted plants we are.

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Thank you

[Frieda P]

My pleasure love.

[VALORMORE DE PLUME]

Looking back to a youthful zest for life, that is hidden by the wounds that time inflicts. Our minds cling to doubt and stress. Relationships whither from neglectWhile age robs our vitality. We store treasures never again to be visited. We are at the mercy of villian death. near the end we look to our hreitage and our legacy. and long for happier times.cancer eats at our skin, gamma rays buy some more time the world has changed its prioities and values not much matters when we are close to the end. I did struggle a bit to unravel the metaphores. The title is the clue. I'm probably way off base. This is very deep therefore it can mean many things.

[unsavable_soul]

This is interesting,
I will be completely upfront. I don't get a lick of this. I am not rating or reviewing friend as this piece may be above my grasp. I think there is great imagery going on but I see no central theme or thought. There is much mental imagery and thoughts to consider here. I think I fail to see where they all connect. I get the ending I think in the idea that closeness is forfeit to common place squabbles. Again not sure. So yeah, sorry I fail here.
Sincerely
Christopher
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[quarintine_deathangel]

I love how you used knurl. XD I've never heard of the word previous to reading this. Interesting write. thanx for the read request ^^

[sasha]

Impressive deep poem, I read it again and again.. Thank you for sharing!

[Coyote Poetry]

"Letters never read bound in more and more paper,
Inside my hands the bones will knurl and fail,
Filling empty pots with wine never to drink,
Even thirst has no hope like women on a rail."
A very interesting poem. Open the door to many good questions and led the reader into thoughts and situations. No weakness in the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[Dayran]

An idleness that cannot be cured by a hobby, a visit to Baskin Robbins, a donut at the cake shop or a walk on the beach. Such idleness may hide a deeper meaning of a lifestyle that is lost. It may well be the walls of Troy.