riding the hours again
coasting from one to the next
re-fueling every half,
much more than really needed.
over-spilling ashtray,
each one a five minute filler,
markers on a munberless clock.
endless peeks through curtained glass,
veiling the blackness outside.
time waits not for me
but me for it,
weary and flat,
like the grey dawn that eventually comes.
<Deleted User> (9299)
Mon 18th Apr 2011 12:41
I liked this - as a reader I liked it's length - I think that is very well judged. I liked the detailing, the use of lower case letters throughout - somehow suits it. Like the language as well, it reads well, a really good piece.
James
Philipos
Sat 16th Apr 2011 21:03
Hi Kath - meloncholy but moving I would describe this poem - liked especially 'riding the hours again' and using cigarettes as a marker for time - (think you have a typo in line 7) but the grey dawn bit certainly underscores your message here - well done
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Andy N
Tue 19th Apr 2011 08:14
hi kath. i'm fine - running round as normal.. lol
this is another cracker of a piece i felt - you certainly starting to really starting to turn the corner with your stuff as this is excellent with it's shortness as for example, the first three lines do lead you beauitfully on a journey where you are not sure where you are going, but want to read on more and more and more..
excellent.. keep em coming! x