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Frank Fields
Jane L.
2 Writers

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2 Members
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Mazurka
by Wayne Thomas (Age: 58)
copyright 06-27-2004


Age Rating: 13 to 127

 
Wrapped in swirling shadows
of an unforgiving night,
scratched by every mossy hanging branch,
the softest sounds are thunder,
i have left my bed for the cool out of doors,
trying to run,
but the throbbing,
throbbing, throbbing,
will not let me go,
nor grant but a moment's surcease.

there is no moon
but the stars are lasers
burning at my vision;
breeze nipping through
wornout pajamas
leaves me chattering,
throbbing,
swirling.

cat and mouse
with my derisive sanity
i am driven to the demon
dance
until blissfully the blackness
opens its tawdry gates
to a sunlight
free of thundering

till next time.
-----


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Comments on this Article/Poem:
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05-14-2007 Chessie Hodge    

This is one of your older poems. But I just had to take a peek! ~.^
I absolutely love what I've found. Your descriptions of the thunder and the darkness swirling around were just spellbinding.
I'm not terribly sure what to make of the rest of it. Whether the person was insane, having a nightmare, on drugs, or just a curious child.
I suppose that's the beauty of poetry though! It's all left up to a person's interpretation.
Keep writing!

Chessie
03-30-2005 Anthony Lane Stahlhut    

You write with great description. Your poems are like paintings as David said! Thanks for this nice poem. Anthony
03-21-2005 David Pekrul    

I don't know what to make of this - is the subject of the poem insane, on drugs, what...
Very strange, but very well written.

David Pekrul
07-04-2004 Mary -BrytEyz- Ball    

And the Polish dance on, through sanity or the lack there of. Thank you for the music inbetween the lines of your words.
Visitor Reads: 446
Total Reads: 481
Comments: 4

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