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eyes the size of saucers
by Indigo Tempestathe forever aspect of silence
has been sick in your bed. where
are you supposed to sleep? almost twenty
shaking in the vivid façade of elderness with needles
out of your brain telling you
quiet
your window's maw holds back the cooling
- this is called neglect by authorities -
so cram your young forehead into the smeared glass
and suck up what you can
how are you supposed to sleep in this tempest
towering-thing over your sugar-sand
you have lost weight under the pressure
you have told your partners to be silent
you have tried to sleep elsewhere
you have wanted to look out other windows onto other scenes
forgetting the hint of a sail on the sea is as good as hope
on a foggy day / that each inch of your going tatters the sails 02/02/2005 Author's Note: drunkanddepressed. needs work.
Posted on 02/02/2005
Copyright © 2024 Indigo Tempesta
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Max Bouillet on 02/03/05 at 01:57 PM Trying to find a place to belong and be yourself... somewhere you are accepted and don't have to face the horrible silence of indifference. So many directions to go in this piece. Beautiful read. |
| Posted by Michele Schottelkorb on 02/09/05 at 04:57 PM and ironically, i bet others see this beautiful disaster exactly opposite... great read... blessings... |
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