Poetry Blogs (hours)
But When We Zoom In
We Second Guess.
Could I Even Breath Through The Rest?
What’s That Stuff Floating In My Vodka?
Prince Charming Feeling Awkward?
That’s Two Or Three Times Bad for My Health.
That’s What They Say, When I’m By Myself.
Can You Bluff When You’re Dealing Hell?
I Got A Lighter, So I Might As Well.
I’m The Numbest I Ever Felt,
Bluffing My Way Through Hell.
Because I Share ...
Sunday 26th May 2019 3:37 am
This poem came to me after a visit to London, where I was thunderstruck by the scale and beauty of the restored Reading Room at the British Museum. I was also wrestling with Existentialism at the time.
A Book of Hours
There was Time when its Arrow
flowed like a ticking clock
as it carved the future from the past
like a blind sculptor in one dimension
Saturday 14th January 2017 12:32 pm