Technomancer
New Member
- Reaction score
- 14
Cossack
Red Rhythm (II)
The Hourglass is a Great Metaphor Series
(me playing with the hourglass metaphor with short poems in different styles)
In the world of Thomas the Tank Engine,
the late D.T. and his Tommy Gun
a train pulls slow into the station.
He wears hard leather and carries
a soaked and crusted feather
that drips oil and smells of distillation.
He thought himself the better
for being a Cossack and competitor.
the late D.T. and his Tommy Gun
a train pulls slow into the station.
He wears hard leather and carries
a soaked and crusted feather
that drips oil and smells of distillation.
He thought himself the better
for being a Cossack and competitor.
Red Rhythm (II)
Red Rhythm, up-beat tempo!
That sand King stands King and sings
"Love a'int what I thought!
Love a'int what I got,
so I'll have it not."
He turned away from the day.
While the moon pulls the sheets off the sand
in a foamy back-walk, the waves talk and splash
"Love, Breath...
Love, Breath...
Breath
Breath"
People power through an hour, a lover
stops to rest, and turn down the volume,
still tapping on her desk.
A rewrite of:
Red Rhythm is slow; a perfect pulse drawn silent from its scabbard.
The Red Eye can only gaze upon red rocks, as a sloth steam rises from the sand.
The Desert King pulls tall from his chair, where he had slept, dreaming of his waking duty.
The same sand flows through his hair.
He breaks his anchor from its trap, and sets out for sea.
The Grey Moon, now full, rests her ear on a pine, and pulls the ocean over the sun
as if 'twere a sheet, woven in white-tipped waves, to darken the day.
As a particular mother, it draws the envy of it's observers,
who wonder how things are so subtly affected.
The ocean wonders too, how it is in patterns pulled.
That sand King stands King and sings
"Love a'int what I thought!
Love a'int what I got,
so I'll have it not."
He turned away from the day.
While the moon pulls the sheets off the sand
in a foamy back-walk, the waves talk and splash
"Love, Breath...
Love, Breath...
Breath
Breath"
People power through an hour, a lover
stops to rest, and turn down the volume,
still tapping on her desk.
A rewrite of:
Red Rhythm is slow; a perfect pulse drawn silent from its scabbard.
The Red Eye can only gaze upon red rocks, as a sloth steam rises from the sand.
The Desert King pulls tall from his chair, where he had slept, dreaming of his waking duty.
The same sand flows through his hair.
He breaks his anchor from its trap, and sets out for sea.
The Grey Moon, now full, rests her ear on a pine, and pulls the ocean over the sun
as if 'twere a sheet, woven in white-tipped waves, to darken the day.
As a particular mother, it draws the envy of it's observers,
who wonder how things are so subtly affected.
The ocean wonders too, how it is in patterns pulled.
The Hourglass is a Great Metaphor Series
(me playing with the hourglass metaphor with short poems in different styles)
The Hourglass is a Great Metaphor
It's a simplification, really
But if I have my way,
your grain will fall first
and mine will stay.
--
The Hourglass is a Great Metaphor
People are selfish.
A million grains of sand
Couldn't plug up one
tiny hole.
--
The Hourglass is a Great Metaphor
We eyed our deaths,
coming fast
until someone shook
the Hourglass.
--
The Hourglass is a Great Metaphor
A one-day sundial
A finite clock
one
continuous
tick
It's a simplification, really
But if I have my way,
your grain will fall first
and mine will stay.
--
The Hourglass is a Great Metaphor
People are selfish.
A million grains of sand
Couldn't plug up one
tiny hole.
--
The Hourglass is a Great Metaphor
We eyed our deaths,
coming fast
until someone shook
the Hourglass.
--
The Hourglass is a Great Metaphor
A one-day sundial
A finite clock
one
continuous
tick
