“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label bad days. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bad days. Show all posts
Monday, January 2, 2017
Less is More, More or Less
There have been difficult times
I knew the right thing to say
and I honestly don't know how I knew
the exact words to highlight what had been hidden.
There have been less
trying times, I said
Nothing
not knowing right from wrong.
Between these
Ends
all the good times evade precise
meaning
over
time
the bad days try to remind us
how easily opinions change in the sun.
The only words left
spaces between.
Painting by Edward Robert Hughes [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
And then...
Change is like that strong smell of cut grass or chopped wood that stops you still. Patterns, a symbol can be an illegible sign, at first...
-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
Today seems like a good day to burn a bridge or two. The sky resembles a backlit canopy with holes punched in it. In California...
-
This world is not for breath for feelings also come and go. As hard and light as Push and pull Go. Busy hands and bees-electricity, alter...