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Bleed

by Walter Jones (Age: 67)
copyright 09-07-2010


Age Rating: 18 +


There are no answers left
Honey bread
no milk
just walls and walls
her swirling smoke

Rise, up you child of play
come mark the sun at bay
blaze, a fire to feed
ample time in friars reed
skies, that fill the pyre
help in mead to mire
ways, left in oak warm
Without, a star to guide
little chute in pride
within, a realm of scream
corner prance in schemes
out, in garden wall
begin, old friar tell all
Wind, cashes wail
rest and peace in hail
day, burst the stars I own
little of nothing I own
behind, lion and sheep pay
perfect or unperfected day
lay, quiet pray
Perfection in written form
Albatross and forlorn
Just hanging from yonder sky
Cry old man cry

There are no answers left
Honey bread
no milk
just walls and walls
her swirling smoke






Visitor Reads: 316
Total Reads: 338
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        02-06-2013     Rachel Brown        

So beautiful and very dark too,
I love this finely woven tapestry its lovely to
behold I really enjoyed reading this its got the rhymes and reason in it Keep up the excellent work.
^_^ Keep Smiling and Keep writing too^_^.
^_*
-Rachel ^_^
        09-25-2010     Wayne Thomas        

I'm always fascinated by your work, even when as now I haven't the slightest hint of what you're writing about. I did catch the part about the old man and no answers left, but we still need to ask the questions. As Paul Simon sang to Kathy: "I stand alone without beliefs; the only truth I know is you." I hope we're not as crushed and discouraged as that. My grandmother said, "As long as there's life there's hope." I've lived by that, and though I've had my share of failure and heartache, it's been true for me. Excellent poem. A real challenge to decipher and I'm not done studying it over. Might be could take awhile. If nothing else,you make me stop and think--whether or not I'm on the mark. Thanks again.
        09-21-2010     Frank Fields        

As always, more than enough to fill anyone's cup ten-fold. Slow reading should be done to savor the drop of every word. ^_^

Frank:
        09-11-2010     Raja Sharma        

that fill the pyre
help in mead to mire

Everything is going to turn into ashes and undoubtedly the way you say it is remarkable. Yes, beggars we are surviving on the alms but for how long is ponderable.

The lines flow with the images floating around.

I love the way you wirte,Sir.

God bless you.
Rajasir


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