Monday, December 14, 2009

A poem

Wing Road.
Wing Road is a knifecut in the earth,
slicing from coast to mountains.
A line to be crossed with,
No guidance given.
As to benefit or cost.

So I’m standing here with thoughts ablaze,
knowing that I have to do something.
While the pull from each end of Wing road,
pins me here, like a beetle.

There are crossroads on Wing road,
and I really should have turned off.
But where the Hell am I going?
No money, no love, only time.

Glowering clouds hide the mountains,
out at sea a force four storm.
Wing road says clearly to me,
“This is it, you are here”.

15 comments:

Jennifer said...

Beeeeyoootiful! And my solar plexus thanks you as well. :)

Another Kiwi said...

There is no higher praise than solar plexoid praise.

merc said...

Keep 'em comin'.

Smut Clyde said...

I hear the words as sung by Maryrose Crook from The Renderers.

Jennifer said...

There is no higher praise than solar plexoid praise.

I fully agree... they don't lie.

Another Kiwi said...

I hear the words as sung by Maryrose Crook from The Renderers.
Very kind of you say so, Smut.

ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© said...

I hear it from Rudolph and the Reindeers, but everybody knows I don't hear so good.
~

mikey said...

I thought poems were supposed to rhyme and shit.

But this one's very nice...

Smut Clyde said...

I thought poems were
supposed to rhyme and shit. But
this one's very nice

zombie rotten mcdonald said...

very sarcastic comment steal, Smut.

merc said...

Poetry heals.

wv; soping, very rich.

Smut Clyde said...

Comment steal?!
My comment was made before mikey's; it only showed up second on account of time-zone stuff. And Southern Hemisphere.

Substance McGravitas said...

¡dlǝɥ

ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© said...

You might as well blame the spiders, S.C.

Looks like they got to Substance McG, also.
~

fish said...

Beautiful poem. Watch out for Rutger Hauer though.