Poem -
Secret home of the bones
Dye before die memory lane picture perfect inside
Iāve climbed clout sat on clouds Iāve feared doubt confessed those heights out loudĀ
Ā Swam the drought that comes after drown walked the winds that usher soundĀ
Sat a seat below a crown listened close until far sight becomes sound to lifeās lost and foundĀ
Ā Lived a drift until times topple opened a time riff keyed frequent lacking toneĀ
Where the Poets frequencies bound set free the color locked in a poets bonesĀ
Support CosmoFunnel.com
You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.
Comments
Beautiful writing. I felt the true spirit of the poet in this pieceĀ
"Lived a drift until times topple opened a times riffs keyed frequent lacking toneĀ
Where the Poets frequencies bound set free the color locked in a poets bones"
Such wonderful depiction of the source of a poet. For it really is in our bones to writeĀ
Thank you for this delightful read
Gwen :)Ā
Life is indeed woven in rich colours and different threads...only a poet can see the beauty in the dark, the comfort in the pain. It is almost as though it is a rite of passage for a poet to walk through Hell. A superb poem Matt x
Than, you thatās a hard description to come to as far as what words May bring and what springs when we go deep .
cool write!.......................................................................................................................Jim