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The Peace of Failure's Solitude
Contributed by
codeofcohen
on
Monday, 11th January 2016 @ 07:17:41 PM in AEST
Topic:
insomniac
|
To the sullen groove of an old mans song
I tell my cruel tales
I dip my head
And tip my hat
To the undefeated males
My young skin old
Strong muscles weak
My bones so cold
In Captors Creek
I/'/m calm now -
Though I won/'/t peak
Through words alone
Do I now speak
This suit is my armour
This cane - my love
Such hate from below
Such neglect from above
No resolution
Nothing stays - Nothing goes
God knows, I miss Nothing
When Something shows
Copyright ©
codeofcohen
... [
2016-01-11 19:17:41]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: The Peace of Failure's Solitude
(User Rating: 1 )
by xHeathenx on
Wednesday, 13th January 2016 @ 10:21:28 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
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Woah, the second half of this surprised me. This feels like it could have numbers of entendres with particular ideas, like the cane and suit being well-dressed in the jazz/swing era, and the shows could be anything from lounge shows, to cabaret, or even to operas and concertos or symphonies. It/'/s impressive in the ways to picture it, and then it with that much can cause for the poem/'/s own inspired insomnia. ;)
-Mark |
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Re: The Peace of Failure's Solitude
(User Rating: 1 )
by thomasu01 on
Thursday, 4th February 2016 @ 07:59:53 AM AEST
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a Message)
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Very well written,
Nice poem well thought out, |
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