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walking into the door
by Charlie Morgani sat atop my brains and emotions; accumulation
of phonemes, and perceptions and at sixty-five years
of phenomenae;a shower of conclusions, consisting
of an infinity of rights and wrongs.
all chasing us down the road, snapping
at our pant-legs, ever-so; ever-so.
i pass thru a busy noon-day New York street.
not wanting to be anyone-a pigment of my
unimagintations, ends at a colorwheel--ever turning.
i find myself grinning thru my flowing tears;
a flowing river envelopes into a trickle.
we'll walk the gallery; view, then, we'll know.
01/01/2012 Posted on 01/01/2012
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 01/01/12 at 09:55 PM I love the way you look at your life, and where it leads your words. |
| Posted by Shannon McEwen on 01/02/12 at 07:03 AM I always love your perspective dear Charlie :) |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 01/17/12 at 08:27 PM I like the way you set this up in the first stanza and then paint the kaleidascope in the last. I sure can relate, buddy. You always manage to jiggle my imagination and stir my recall. Thanks, Chaz. |
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