This is the new blog...CONFESSION ZERO

PUFF OF EXHAUST

READ THE POEM +/-
(Pollution by Ben Heine)

Dear George,
Communities are hotbeds of social interaction in which individuals of varying demographics occupy the same space and through a process of squabbling and contentiousness manage to form themselves into a political unit that, in the end, acts as an effective counterweight to the power of the State. (
Read the complete letter.)




A puff of exhaust smoke oozes upward
But our flickering takes no notice
We’re busy watching the lines sway;
The ghosts of motion come to stay.

Can you not hear the death knell?
It rumbles, clanging inside our gut,
Quaking not our thickset heart,
But eliciting tears of emptiness.

A sound bite of love curls up like sex-wet lips
And evaporates before it’s perceived.

Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.
Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.
Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.
Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.

(Sing along, kids!)

Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic
Spacious skies! Amber waves!
Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.
Purple mountains! Fruited plains!
Erotic. Iconic. Hypnotic. Catatonic.
Liberation from sea to shining sea!

A puff of exhaust smoke oozes upward
But our flickering takes no notice
We’re busy watching the lines sway;
The ghosts of motion come to stay.

The stench wafts…




Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman


Inspired by Belacqua Jones

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