|
The Prophets Collide at Murphy Road
by Curt Alldaythe raspy voice
in a dented
dainty tin can
rattles its cage
touts longings only heard
on occasion
in the apartment above
where \"in love\" was the way
now it is content, delayed
on the shoulder of some street,
Murphy road
its stop sign sits angled
and tattered
the crow calls
he descends to the earth
beak in the dirt
reminds the shaking sunrise
it is only my eyes,
growing older;
my hair,
growing longer;
my beard,
only thinner
but my wings have not let me down
but this heart still pumps allegories
but these words are not symbolic
it is not some sign of premonition
on the part of the tainted heart
it is only these tunes on the jukebox
the hollow man whispering
these instrumentations
and revelations
about the times
the stones
the memories
the prophets of a day
as I am now the aged in
this relationship,
where her face is left staring
at a cold crow and a gust of gravel,
I step on the gas
remembering that old Murphy road was but a staple
in the corner of another
page attached with
a slowly maturing love 04/07/2005 Posted on 04/07/2005
Copyright © 2024 Curt Allday
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Charles E Minshall on 04/08/05 at 06:21 AM Welcome to Pathetic Curt. Good opening poem
I hope to read more....Charlie |
| Posted by Uriel Tovar on 04/08/05 at 06:36 AM murphy road, much like the streets in my life, lie forever in the bak of my mind as a reminder of the life i've had and as a road sign to something greater. kudos. good work |
|
