Dust Gathering on My Rhymes
I
am suspended in a time that is lost
in
the laughter
flowing
from my lips.
And
no one ever told me,
there
is no way out of this.
I
am past recognizing solid ground
and
burning
from
the memories I keep.
Still,
my Muse sings a lullaby
while
my destiny weeps.
Paper
flowers litter the floorboard
of
my heart
and
go up in smoke inside my head.
I
can't control
a
single breath ahead.
My
thoughts choose to stay inside the ink
where
there's no risk
of
living outside this time.
I
can feel dust gathering...
on
my rhymes.
so lyrical neva....i feel like drifting in this and a bit of loss as well...the going up in smoke...my Muse sings a lullaby
ReplyDeletewhile my destiny weeps....great emotive line....
Thank you so much Brian ;)
DeleteThere's no dust on this Neva, it's spotless and very good~~
ReplyDeleteBeautiful write Neva--such evocative imagery!!
ReplyDeleteThank you Audrey :)
DeleteOh, Neva , heartbreaking as usual. Lovely poem.
ReplyDeleteThank you Lesley, glad I could break a few hearts once again. Hope you are doing well.
DeleteA beautiful poem from a beautiful heart.
ReplyDeleteThank you B!
Delete'my thoughts in ink' I do so prefer that myself. Beautiful!
ReplyDeleteThank you Shadow :)
DeleteThis is lovely as always Neva :)
ReplyDeleteThank you Optimistic :)
DeleteLovely thinking and I am certain that Carl Sandburg would agree with you leaving the rhyme sparse and let the dust gather. Add Stephen Crane in with him as well. The sorrow though ever poet no matter who understands in whatever form it rises.
ReplyDeleteThank you Walking Man :)
DeleteBelo poema...Espectacular....
ReplyDeleteCumprimentos
Gracias!
ReplyDeleteoh Neva , beautiful poésie !
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteMerci! :) XX
DeleteIn the long run, men hit only what they aim at. Therefore, they had better aim at something high.
ReplyDeleteHenry David Thoreau
Thank you
ReplyDelete