Friday, August 2, 2013

Street talking...

via enjoythesilence
Pete Zab
via LoveMore
Greg Kadel
Stood round the mandala made of chalk
Listened to all the souls that talk
A decade of poetry confession
Lifting myself out of every discretion
Eager to share my own self expression

Homeless, drunks, artists, old, and wise
Here there is no prize for disguise
Willing to wear my anger proud
Still need to remember to project sound loud
Fist pump and snap to somber melody
Medicine derived from brevity

Cab driver hearing my rhyme-
Would you like to go out sometime?
I'd like to hear you speak more poetry-
Perhaps over coffee or tea?
What else do you write?
Do you bring other subjects to light?

Unfortunately the men tend to inspire me
First fruit trees then faded debris
Romantic poems of despair
Whatever I decide feels unfair
I've got to get out and try something new
Life has got plenty color to chew
I see details where no one else looks
Time to take this vision to the books

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