Poem -
Asthma As The Deepest Breath Of A Windmill
outside of the spirited delirium
of our quaint sabotage
and with all the moxie of a tick,
nestled in steel wool -
head down in the futility. beyond -
the aspirations of
a snowflake in an open
wound.
love
is the riddle of
our days
every
Night.
and we swallow
with our eyes
no moon.
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Comments
Hey August!!....... The first stanza of this is friggin' brilliant......... the last parts are VERY enigmatic.......... interesting stuff my friend..........ALL STARS.......... Love and Rockets!!..........T xo
Nice August, I like your style
I appreciate every kind word.
Thank You, Thank You, Thank You !! You honor me.
Please to read you, August Arps, I caught a bit of your work the other day and promised myself to come back and read you, you have unique phrasing, very elegant as well....you stand out, I must say...enjoyed reading this poem....to me it is very good work, as you know, opinions on poetry is subjective, one person may like a piece, others may not 'get it', but for the most part, poets seem to like poetry that reminds them of their own poetry, lol...human nature is what it is....but you don't really write like anyone around here, so this assumption doesn't apply to you....nonetheless, I'm now, very picky about what I read on here, these days, so thank you for bringing some fresh interesting 'goods' to the market, really good to see....cheers, man
I'm a little disoriented here but I'm adjusting, Been in the shed for a decade, discovering my voice and honing my craft. I deeply appreciate your kind consideration and look forward to grazing the fields of poesy here and finding fine works. I've noticed some camaraderie and earnest verse. This is encouraging. I pray I do not fail to illuminate or amuse. I post the cream of my crop and befriend the cyber gypsies that congregate and commune. You are well met. Thank You again.
I plan to get down, with the get down. Namaste.