totalitarian whiplash


the straight lines drew you
they were drawn to draw you
but finish the thought
those clouds look lovelier
than old cement runways
they call the road ahead
why did you leave it unsaid
what left inside and wouldn’t come out
where is that morbid postern
you crave the guilt on minutes on wings
that sneaks out on work
ethic turns to gloat
as you soared and swooped
swallowed then subsided ashamed
where did they go
stand them and show me their creed
what they achieved
where they flew
how many flutters to unseat you
how many guilt burns before
the circular saw is through
you are no example
you have none
you are nothing at all
but element and spirit
a color that cannot be made again


5 Responses

  1. Another amazing swirling poem, Ms Mist. They are like ancient songs made new again.

    ~MM – Thank you Mr.Squires, I try :)! After I read your poem, this seemed to me more a toe-stubbing clique, but its still amazing how difficult it is to believe 😦

  2. wow! that was my expression, after this poem. Really amazing, and great use of words to express what you had to say.

    ~MM – Thanks Shaik :)!

  3. You ceratainly have a great and unique style with your writing, every time I read your words I am more and more amazed!

    ~MM – Thanks Duma Key :)!

  4. this is very independent & adventurous…i love “a color that cannot be made again.” …and as usual, you’re following your own internal compass… and that’s always the best direction to go…

    as always, be well…

    ~MM – Thanks Chico :), you be well too, peace!

  5. There is so much detail in this poem…it’s wonderful. It is overflowing beautifully with contrasting shapes, movements, thoughts and feelings. I feel like your words are rushing over me…

    I love the use of ‘direct speech’ which is very powerful…and of course, amazing.

    ~MM – Thanks Tracey! A pleasure to hear you think :)!

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