thickwig

It's a blower
.
.
.

gaseous
. . .
gracious!

My mind's a blower
filling up useless
thought baloons

Kings, queens, dolls and doldrums
First love, latest love, next love
tomorrows and yesterdays - no today
Piano, guitar, whistle and a bugle
Blow...
stop before you pop


A rainbow in a desert
colours for the colourblind -

Float in mid-air
no gratitude for gravity -

Misplaced emblems of wisdom:
fragile dreams borne on a hard marble floor

dancing a dismal dervish
dwelling delerious
on a simple wish
of a world righteous

Unbroken love and the right music
a soft bed and a softer landing
from the bed; downwards rolled
in lovers' pastime.
With a lover from that Golden High
that elusive bosom,
that impossible twosome...

Painting rosy gambles in ivory towers
Deluding graying days into magic hours
.
.
Waiting for my dear world to flower
When pearly white skies I may discover
And gaze into it in my lazy life in clover.

Buddha

Not much to say other than i really enjoyed this poem. I don't know why but I did

Buddha

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" ......nobody, nobody can eat fifty eggs...."

- reality bites

thickwig

thanks a lot man!

AtypicalEssence

First of all, wow. I think (if I remember correctly) I read and commented on something else of yours a long while ago, and liked it very much, but this, well, I simply adore it.

I am a fairly picky person. Yet the only thing that caught my eye, and even it was given only the smallest notice, was that I believe saying 'it' instead of 'bed' a second time in " a soft bed and a softer landing / from the bed; downwards rolled" might sound a little bit better, but it's certainly only a minute suggestion.

I loved "fragile dreams borne on a hard marble floor" - it evoked images of birth, and how tiny and fragile infants seem, then combined for some reason with the sight of glass shattering on the floor of my bathroom, which is marble. The combination of something fragile and hard marble, of birth, warm infants and a cold floor - well, it's thought provoking and excellent.

Really, really, really enjoyed this.

cellardoor

don't ever give up the dream, i'm right there with you

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If I make it as a writer, I'll write for the hobo, not the professor.