who am I one man dangling

who am I one man dangling
above one world and its void
derelict to the very bone
of conceit and misconception
redeemed by water and clocks

serendipity holds no sway here
where continuity is a matter
of keeping your legs crossed
never delving into the other I
where sureness is a matter of theft

steamed into times of watery waves
I keep falling into traps
of induced anaesthesia rolling
like thunder at mute movie theatres
caught dying off guard

your mother is my mother
your time is a foul lottery ticket
kneaded by celestial bakers
at the end of the green here line
running from every station

I’ll see you at the end game
unfolding by fires of no good
doing their thing
dealing and sealing the gift
dissolving in good will

wishful dancing above the surf
will not change the code
we are here and we are here
because it is what we are
at the end of the day




Poetry by Bob
Read 135 times
Written on 2017-12-20 at 06:59

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Ashe
Each stanza tells me a story, a feeling. Great thoughts all.
Ashe
2017-12-21