Not Listening

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  • Angst

    Not Listening
    The words too slow; the colors too dull. Like fishing in empty water and going home with nothing. Just bug bites and sunburn. Too many itches to scratch. Traveling through time in little flinches. Touch like a house of cards. Even the faintest breeze is too much.

    Imagining someone wants what I have to give. Poems like little ladders that won’t take me very far. Love like a rowboat missing its oars. Questions become waterfalls, smashing all those wooden barrels filled with good intentions.

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    arfin09 commented on Not Listening

    02-27-2009

    very nice. really liked "traveling through time in little flinches"! repetitive metaphors pound the point. write more.
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    If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.

    Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.

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