Friday, April 23, 2010


Hazy lights on the road before me
Slow like a hundred trees passing
Blurry like the liquid in me
That echoes my engine running
A touch and a flip won’t discern
Ghostly signs and waifish warnings
My intent to dissolve in the morning mist
Together with the random thoughts
The automatic gods of memories insist
Deeper and deeper does the metal paddle sink
Like shards of images in the glass I held
As I drift slowly into the barricades
Alas I am lost forever

1 comment:

  1. wilde,

    how you conjure these pent-up emotions are a mystery to me? i am still wondering at these moment pondering where you get these powerful inspirations to create such beautiful lines for this poem. good use of poetic elements.

    best of times,