Took a break and wrote this...
the distant hum of indiscernible voices,
echoes of old cars on wet streets
and the memory of a live breeze saxophone
that finally tooled its way into my senses
and as suddenly left me here to hang dry.
The piano plays into the bending door,
the guitar is just too lazy to get serious.
Me I just want this moment to explode
into something more than just this.
The old man at the bar, if you want,
The beard that needs to be trimmed.
Poetry by Bob
Read 440 times
Written on 2010-04-01 at 23:38
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The imaginary bar
It was the mumbling late at night,the distant hum of indiscernible voices,
echoes of old cars on wet streets
and the memory of a live breeze saxophone
that finally tooled its way into my senses
and as suddenly left me here to hang dry.
The piano plays into the bending door,
the guitar is just too lazy to get serious.
Me I just want this moment to explode
into something more than just this.
The old man at the bar, if you want,
The beard that needs to be trimmed.
Poetry by Bob
Read 440 times
Written on 2010-04-01 at 23:38
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
 by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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