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The Poets Revolt

Contributed by scooterhyme on Wednesday, 24th February 2010 @ 01:22:52 PM in AEST
Topic: spiritual

The vacuum of space
what an unsettling mess
no credit card no check
only infinite regress
the beat that goes on and on
to the next with the next to gain

I couldn't stop i could not watch my passion eat cereal for breakfast another day
where are the forks in the road the old man said he cannot say

For the beach and the hills we may always find steep
to burn through a cactus patch
or drift on the plains
we run across nations
and shake with fever from the cameras
only to start up again

We shall hope to rot and our creations burn
only the door they should learn
the rusty door of a dirty kitchen
that opens to the back alley leading anywhere you chose
into the night
into the night and you will not lose

a brazen man steps out of a bar at dawn
a crazy wind is blowing and he knows he must be gone

Copyright © scooterhyme ... [ 2010-02-24 13:22:52]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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