Conversation with the night
Middle age in sleeveless black, beneath the quartered moon.
tattooed shoulders bracing a bent back, shuffling in air jordans.
Bad hair, dirty and unshaven his voice rises in slurred passion. Gesticulating to an unseen companion, deep in conversation with the night.
What goes on behind the bleary eyes, in a mind poisoned?
He dissappeared into the shadows , My questions linger...
The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| He was all twitch and shiver | 0 | 08/31/2009 |
| I rode the Train | 0 | 08/31/2009 |
| Conversation with the night | 0 | 07/28/2009 |
| Forgive | 1 | 06/29/2009 |
| Raging Heart | 0 | 06/29/2009 |
| Embedded | 0 | 06/18/2009 |
| Selfish Delight | 0 | 06/18/2009 |
| A Single Breath | 0 | 06/18/2009 |
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