Friday, February 26, 2010

Sharing Time...

Good Morning!


I wrote the following poem about four years ago. I was looking for another poem in my computer when I came across this one. I love it. But, I need to start making notes about where some of these come from. I wish I remembered what started my rant.

Enjoy...maybe you can make some guesses! I was living in Arizona at the time. Huh. That might answer the question.....



The Bastard We Dream About

By Leah Wuergler

Art is suicide if loving another is my medium

To dive into a canvas with every color inside…

those colors don’t spread with water and heat

the way kisses melt in passion and adoration.

It’s time we got tired of watching the sunset and never watching it rise…

Yet, how can we see anything through the blood in our tears…

My tears, you don’t cry.

Love is murder if loving another is your job.

To get suited up for work and make all the right motions…

I wonder how everyone still gets promotions

When the job is never completed…skimmed.

It’s time someone understood the moon turns the tide.

Yet, how can we believe in gravity if we never hold each other…

My arms, you don’t touch.

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