The Garden Of Blue Roses

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    The Garden Of Blue Roses

    Walking around a familiar world, see familiar faces, familiar places,
    But cant recognize the man looking back at me in the mirror,
    What have I become? No, what has this world become,
    Change? Nobody changes same snakes, same people telling new lies,
    I close my eyes, I find myself in a place where the flowers cry,
    Where the sun and moon sing a croon a silent lullaby to the clouds and stars,
    A place where dreams dont die,
    I fall into the sky lay up looking down into the ocean,
    My words move mountains and make the skies grey with envy,
    Knowing that its no longer the limit, my dreams have past that boundry,
    There are no concrete jungles but jungles rising out of the concrete,
    Where stories grow feet and travel on their own,
    Not only by word of mouth, rhythm or sound,
    It's at the end of this garden, this garden of blue roses,
    I realize I believe in my dreams,
    Believe in them more then I believe in reality,
    And thats all I need,
    I look back into the mirror and become one with what I lost,
    I found myself and thats all I need.... 

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    sanctus commented on The Garden Of Blue Roses

    02-21-2011

    I quite liked the flow on this one, and in particular the metaphors you used.

    Logik

    02/24/2011

    thanks much appreciated

    Tempestlady commented on The Garden Of Blue Roses

    02-07-2011

    You ahd me at "I find myself in a place where the flowers cry". Such wonderful imagery, about our societ and the modern day lion and jungle. Such a great contrast of metaphor. Very well done. Maybe could use a bit of jpolish here and there but very nice. Write on..................Tlady

    Logik

    02/07/2011

    thank u

    Insideme commented on The Garden Of Blue Roses

    02-05-2011

    In part , dreams are reality because that is where hope begins,,,you are amazing!

    Logik

    02/05/2011

    thanks for the feedback bro i write whats in the heart its much appreciated

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    Logik’s Poems (7)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Illuminatic Dreams 1
    Ordinance 2
    Writers Block 3
    Will This Once Upon A Time 5
    The Prayer 2
    The Garden Of Blue Roses 3
    Dirty Hands 3