Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Grab What You Call For

The blank stare,
looking off
into someplace

There is nothing
to be seen,
only distortions
as fog consumes
our lungs.

On the boulder
of millions of pieces
the water rushes
to barely kiss
my feet.

Consuming the calm
begins to drain
all the colors
into a numbing cauldron.

Let it slip.
Let it feel real.
Let it be just right.
Let it only hold one truth.


  1. I like so many parts but especially the end.

  2. Thank you, that was the first poem I had wrote in a while and I wasn't even to sure about it. I guess it was not all that bad then. I think I am going to start posting more poems.