- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Politik 2005-08-11
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In this day and age
I have become
the man who wasn't there
to watch walls fall,
blood flow,
monuments
and skylines
topple over.
But a periphery puppetry ghost
to worry over tax returns
when Belgrade drowned
in a million whistle song,
to sleep in a mood valley
when a Kiev sea of orange
made hope bloom.
To repeatedly fall
in debt, in love, in line,
during genocide, geopolitics,
obelisks in time.
And here I sit,
filling blank paper
with trinkets of mind.
Ready to plunge yet again
into a trifle life,
picked clean of history
as well as clean of sin.
Am I in blessed seclusion
or on the outside
looking in?
- COMMENTS
Anonymousover 18 years agoThis baby gets deeper as it flows to the end. A lot of
guestions most of us can't answer. Pretty smooth read. sand
