Saturday, April 16, 2016

Poetry, Poetry, Poetry - by Bob Atkinson


Poetry, Poetry, Poetry
(c)2016 Bob Atkinson

gnarlish institutional force
files piles of paper in due course
about, around and up onto
this open ended curly cue

we have a name for that which we
don't know, or care to hold up to
a light of emotional tones
to flee our simple objective bones

define for me this world of yours
where words evoke with metaphors
thoughts evolved from open wounds
whereupon we savor hues

hues of nature, not man made
no underlying decadent parade
where some require control of their
fellow hearts through lack of care

similes strenghten thoughts supreme
ornate designs held back by dreams
wild activities brought up from past
with uncertain outcome devastating

naked obsessions flicker fast
those synapses flowing, but never last
wildness given free head
when talent gets out of bed

tell me truly, do you understand
these constructs of mortal man
or do you hide those questions deep
causing us to again repeat

repeat those institutional lies
which bury truth in senseless piles
a never ending path we take
an open ended journey made

poetry

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