Tiny Tim 0716
In life
PADDLED ONWARD THROUGH THIS STRIFE,
KNOCKED BY BRANCHES,
SLICED UP BY SKIPPED ROCKS,
SUNKEN BY A CENTURY OF MOLLUSKS
JUST INCHES BEFORE I REACH THE DOCKS
Grown men, groan, men:
Provisions for the visionary,
Incisions for the wild and weary,
We re caught up in this soylent fishnet panic,
gasps draw mouths araw:
WE RE MADE OUT OF FUCKING PEOPLE!
SO LIFTED TO THE ATOMIC,
REVISIONED LIGHT EVERY SECOND IS DAWN
AND EVERY FLOWER IS A GUN DRAWN
TO A PAIR OF FLOATING BABYS BREATH EYES,
reborn anew.
When a perfect stranger lifts you to their level In this world
Whos supporting who?
Jackie Phillips
Fri 10th Apr 2015 08:35
Hi Zach - Of the poems of yours that I have read so far, this I think is my favourite one yet. Your poetry seems to me, to be multifaceted and when I read it I find different meanings within it every time. It is sort of disjointed and yet flowing.
There are so many lines in this poem that I like but I think the one I like best is, 'WE RE MADE OUT OF FUCKING PEOPLE!' which of course is true in every respect.
Keep writing !!!