Like a mighty feat,
Running on the track
And field,
And a winning
Streak, almost like,
Where were the opponents
Kind of streak.
They all saw it,
And were overt with zeal.
They watched him from the sideline…
They shed tears of elation.
All pains and losses gone,
All and all overcome.
Those with whom you
Sat, and jotted down the where
And what have
You. Talked
About
The where,
What have you
In
Lobbies of buildings
That.
In rooms with walls
That talk, not if they could.
Where do we go now?
We(you).
Placate the fools
With disconcerinmemt.
Flattery goes a long a way
For the ones that
Looked the other way
When their leaves
Fell in Spring time (For when do
Leaves in the Spring Fall?)
And when we hear your
Clamour of
Thorny tree-branches
Wont in the cold,
I can only return the favor
With my spring time fall.
People that
You don’t know,
(I.e.) like
“I know you by this many degrees”
Kind of People.
That you met
In your trauma.
The people you met
Before you may have started
Falling from your synthetic
High;
From the smoke and the fire.
From whom your White flag
You.
With whom your White flag
You.
this is my essence: I
am essential.
like a gear on a
machine
with you and me.
i am essential
on this morning.
e
ssential. I am
essential. Always on
our mission.
On the subway legs
Crossed, I notice
A couple sitting
In front of me.
Where are they going.
An exchange of
Words amongst them. Trading
Glances. A smile. A nod
With reciprocity.
They’re going somewhere,
Wherever it is
That they go. I hope
They make everything
Amazing.
The terms of the seasons
For example; why the fall
Fall.
In January I slipped,
April 15th was the day I recognized
The seasons.
It was Spring then.
Spring me to Summer
Please,
For I can’t wait any longer
For the Winter.
In those days I’d sit
By the window sill
In the cold dark daytimes
Of Winter.
I’d hear the blinds in the kitchen
tapping,
Then a chill followed by unwelcome cold
Breeze, from those gray days.
It was not morbid.
I was younger, Reveling in possibilities.
My friends would call me in the
Evenings, and we’d be
Be 40 year misanthropes
In Manhattan bars.
I was in the mindset of returning
To that small, wooded college
upstate NY, as I took a personal leave.
A sea of papers covered my
Bedroom floor with sophomoric attempts
At a novel.
I didn’t mean to make those memories,
Such is the way of nostalgia.
I’d let the tap from the blinds on
the window Keep calling me. I’d light a
cigarette and smoke.
Meticulously in moms kitchen. Letting
My thoughts ruminate. Giving into short
circuitry.
I didn’t need the Spring to
Bring me to my senses. It was still cold
Out, when I arose from that state
And closed the window shut.
The words you write are crucial to the message you want to convey.
Just as stanzas and line breaks in poems are essential to what I want to express.
Rhetorical architecture is used to create tone.
This is my first post. I’ll be adding more content soon.
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