|
 Menu
|
|
|
|
|
Social
|
|
|
|
|
A Faded Red
Contributed by
Franciswolf
on
Thursday, 24th May 2007 @ 02:01:40 AM in AEST
Topic:
Lifepoems
|
You danced like crosses in the snow with figure in your steps,
A cold refusal to grow,
I saw you guessing your life like a blind tarot card holding back on the dealer,
Going back on your word
There were tapes of ballerinas,
Worn out “Buenos Dias”, greetings you could never understand
By the doors that were opening so you would just close them once again
You say, “Make me an old rocking chair, a bottled air, some sort of paperweight,
Let the dues pay out, all majesty, beside of me, a clock’s too late,
Just so long as I don’t face this, the window’s glance ahead,
I don’t want to be a breeze, the melting freeze; I want to live a faded red”
Now the canine’s bowl is empty,
There are no morsals left, no meal left for free,
I watched as you starved yourself on failed visions,
On backwards indirections, newly marketed decisions,
You know, you use to make the point of reference now there’s no chance,
An epitaph’s made of loss, this ambition’s tossed,
It never marked the cost
You say, “Make me an old rocking chair, a bottled air, some sort of paperweight,
Let the dues pay out, all majesty, beside of me, a clock’s too late,
Just so long as I don’t face this, the window’s glance ahead,
I don’t want to be a breeze, the melting freeze; I want to live a faded red”
There was beauty in your sighs,
Injustice in your smiles, danger in your alibis,
And it’s sickening, watching you turn into a storage room, some sort of ancient tree
Like a written out doom, an anchor sinking in the sea
An inspiration poster at an old, gray office desk,
The chance of no risk, a steadying tortured path,
You snicker at this world but it gives no comforting laugh,
You say, “Make me an old rocking chair, a bottled air, some sort of paperweight,
Let the dues pay out, all majesty, beside of me, a clock’s too late,
Just so long as I don’t face this, the window’s glance ahead,
I don’t want to be a breeze, the melting freeze; I want to live a faded red”
Passion was a loser,
It never stood a chance; it boxed just to bruise her,
Now there’s all this letting go into a life of pointless past,
Into a reoccurring show,
That gets old way too fast,
History repeats itself,
The book’s shelved, no mysteries made to shed,
For a figure of imagination’s crime, a living faded red
Copyright ©
Franciswolf
... [
2007-05-24 02:01:40]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
Advertisments:
|
|
|
|
|
|
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
|
|
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry
Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any
comment.
That said, if you find an offensive comment, please
contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title
etc.
|
|
|
Re: A Faded Red
(User Rating: 1 )
by PhantomVampyress on
Thursday, 24th May 2007 @ 09:31:13 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
a very powerful emotional write.. its got a good messege and i really liked the flow of this good job
Vampyress Jenni |
|
|
Re: A Faded Red
(User Rating: 1 )
by Neo-Theatre on
Thursday, 24th May 2007 @ 11:32:52 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Of course, having posted a poem concerning the colour red today, we were unsuprised to find another in the same vein *smiles*.
The circles you make are wonderful.
A lot of the Neo-theatres own, well, lot, in the theme of this.
Thankyou.
TNT.
|
|
|
Re: A Faded Red
(User Rating: 1 )
by SaintzAndSinnerz on
Saturday, 2nd June 2007 @ 01:08:46 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| Very well thought poem. I enjoyed it. Great penning. |
|
|
|
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
