Oh you can pretend to fill a room
With three great artists’ paintings,
Straighten the plush Turkish carpet
On your marble topped floor
You can stroke the red mahogany desk
And arrange your Mesopotamian relics
Stack Kurosawa films
In your brand new DVD floor
Decorate your wall covering bookshelf
With hard bound names
Live a finer life
Away from the mundane.
But you cannot take me in
Where puddles have no names.
Push the right buttons
Hum the right tune
Beat in steady rhythm
Assembly products fume
But you cannot envelop me
In this endless ruin.
But you cannot expect me
To believe the farce soon.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Travesty, today; forever.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Have you thought of publishing the stuff you write? Maybe a collection of poetry?
I'm not the greatest judge of poetry, but this I do know...you write unique and unusual poetry that I would want to read...like in a collection or something.
I'm flattered beyond words. BEYOND words. :D
you do know, that 'expressions material' like you asked has no definition...
and I LIKE this poem! It makes me see things... imagine them, recreate them in my mind. AND i totally identify with the sentiment ;)
Good work! :D
Post a Comment