Litkicks Message Board Archive

16oct

Posted to Action Poetry




the world sleeps softly inside its crib of steel
even california is cold today
the wind like a blanket of ice petals
a flower grown in the wrong season
refusing to shed its cloak and mask
rebirth is hard
to find identity even harder
so why go through it
solitude sits upon my head
like a tophat worn in a party of self
there are no night fires
no one dancing around the wood to burn
and severed trees
no voices tonight
a bedroom and a picture of nostalgia
i want to hear her voice
just a careless hello
i need something older
connected to the dusted shadow of me
that closeted artifact of who i once was

'my, the years have been kind to you'
a sentence of old lost friends

the years have gone by so fast
and i didn't take enough pictures
snuffed the memories out in pillow cases
that should be washed more
sometimes i find it hard to move without you
even though your not here i find my hand reaching
a grip mark
a teeth mark
the feel of your skin upon mine
while i'd shift gears in the shitty ass blue car i had
your hand shifting along with me
the car sold
your hand pawned off
my memories eternal and becoming clearer
i miss you baby