I really like this poem, stanza 4 & 5 do it for me. Good use of words and great imagery.
It is a troublesome thing perfecting thoughts.
Ideas float like wisps of smoke
wafting shapes all grey and blurred.
Words teeter on a knife-edged cross;
the sharpened tongue can’t choose what’s heard.
Do you hear tongues full of tomorrows?
Or swim in empty phrases that reflect a twisted world?
Can you dream yet lay resplendent in sorrow?
Have you antidotes for truthlessness when it unfurls?
If someone can, then anyone can – shatter every canard’s sheen.
He can, she can; we all can shake off those chains unseen.
Mothers and fathers, ear stuffed and eyeless can wipe their stained slates clean
Lovers can maybe stop their loving and consummate their dream.
Scrape some silence from nature’s cave, embroider nights with adjectives,
bathe your spirit in tireless waves, seed the world with promises.
For it’s easy to sit under darkening skies blowing kisses toward the day;
easy to shatter a sheen…
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