Alleys

Traveling trough the back alleys of my mind

Lost in the comfort of a place I know

Finding all that is left undone and unattended

Is it time to finally reap what I might sow?

 

My alleys are many and crisscross for unknown miles

The place where I can store what is yet to be birthed

And come back to like a tragic homing pigeon

The reunion bitter sweet taste of fresh earth

 

The deposits and withdrawals at these creative ATMs

Are far to numerous to balance and check

I leave the pretty litter strategically strewn and placed

To sift thought latter like a chicken with a case of hunt and peck

 

This orderly chaos of thought and will so lovingly tended

A full time job of sorts, with the results pure creativity and fun

The many roundtrips to and fro keep me on my toes

To ponder and pose, for many or just one

 

Written by: Mark Lamont

May 2007

Reviews

[M Lamont]

!!

[Michael X]

mark, this poem speaks directly to the readers heart, the imagery is written
with refined clarity precise wording adds to the emotional effect, powerful,
poetical creativeness expressed as intellectual pondering reflecting a sense
of letting go to experience freedom, really liked this image, as well as the
enirety "My alleys are many and crisscross for unknown miles"....metaphorical
combination of insight and state of being, showing the past, and all that one
has endured, great contemplational work, take care, mike

[G. Cedillo]

this is an interesting little piece - )i know because i'm always finding myself writing about not being able to write( you do it better than i --

g;