Weeks merge
Convergent days a component, comprised of
Hour’s blood
Here and there, now and then
Every month it starts again
Lingering is
A cramping
Exposition
Of time
Years smeared across
A calendar- a sustaining void
Seconds precious few
Blonde, bruised
Forever Blue
Tokens of exclamation
Bludgeoned
Into
As premature as my claims may seem
A coward’s image I’ve begun to see
Like mascara to the cloth I run from what could be
This reminds me somewhat of ...sometimes it's hard to face our truths but, we all have to in the end.
ReplyDeleteDeep, and thought provoking. Thanks for the lovely comment on mine.
daydreamer, thanks for the interpretation, I really like how you were able to get right at the essence. Oh, I enjoy you're work, so you're very welcome. Thanks again:)
ReplyDeleteI tried interpreting the poem but again as weeks merged with the hours blood.. I got merged with the poem as I read..:-)
ReplyDeleteEventually we have to stop running and let our pens speak for themselves. Thought provoking write, (VERY) that will force me to leave other poems unread as I ponder for a moment. And I will certainly return to see what else your pen has to say...N
ReplyDeletebharat, thanks for visiting and weighing in with your creative response. Very well done. Thanks:)
ReplyDeletenatasha, Really glad to see you stop by. I enjoy your work as well. I'm proud to see you enjoyed the piece. Thanks again and look forward to your feedback in the future:)
ReplyDelete