dpbowman

The posings of a poet.

Dark ANgels


The standard uncomplicated conversation is a tattooed constellation on the left side of tomorrow
The dareless dreams of day are meditations on the gray that lingers between the patches of fog we borrow
The night holds light as bright as tygers in the mind

The repetitious regurgitation of fact or fiction breaks with concentration in the factories of faith and thought
The settled servile sentence called happiness or repentance is a calculated indecision cheaply bought
The dark covers much but reveals in kind

The dimmed delight of dessicated day is night and brings relief and room to breathe and stretch our wings
The fear felt for few is flight to me and you and fumbling fun in close quarters and other things
The moon smiles upon the mark we leave behind

Advertisements

Single Post Navigation

Type your mind...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: