This was written in accordance with a photoshoot I had done, about 150 pictures in the woodlands I live near. Each picture had two lines written about it. I simply kept writing and writing, so that's why it's so long. I like the poem on it's own howeve


Forest of Irony

Stepping through a forest of ideas,
Gnarled rough trees vie for power
Myriad of sticks molded into chaos,
A mosaic forms, then flakes
Long shadows caused by puzzled branches,
The random draws me in
Lone leaves droop despairingly,
Clinging with hope of vigor
Forest floor is a heart of death,
Yet life crawls through, destroying the lost
A liquid of light filters down,
Through wood
Green garb is now brown,
Eaten clear to veins
Ironic varnish coats the dead,
Though green still turns its' face
Dangerous fuzz winds and curls,
Carving and strangling its' host
Woody threads peel threatenin',
Their mangled victims bear scars
Dead arms stretch with past ambition,
Live ones taunt the clearing
Decimated trunk stands guard,
O'er the secretive scampers
Jagged anchor lies eaten,
Only the solid toes spear the air
Pillars of shadow menace sky,
Lazy grey fills the rest
Calico colors show hurt,
A sword of white, perhaps
Contorted face of fallen facet,
Acts as home to green
Lines of old effort slice,
No matter now, it seems
Chinks of red lie parallel,
Chinks of blonde lie not
Green trees curve in exotic dances,
Mystery radiates from
Grey surrounds black lines of life,
As I step through this world of wonder



Poetry by Inchworm
Read 431 times
Written on 2007-03-26 at 00:31

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