I wrote this poem a while ago, so i guess it is a blog cheat. But i really like it. I also admire Bukowski's freedoma and words, even if he was a misogynistic prick.
lumps of cork
float in my wine
as another evening turns to night
the loneliness of a
different ambition
the smokiness of a fading life
wisps of it
melting into rooms
which in turn melt into a
monotonous world
of blurred expectations
it's strange but is isn't
life is not what we make of it
but the words that surround it
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written at a different time in my life
ReplyDeletei like your poems...your imagery
ReplyDeletei also enjoyed the most recent post, the story about the office...you write well
if you fell so inclined you can stop by my page and check out my poetry
angstandagony.blogspot.com
peace
This is a definite favorite of mine from your works thus far. The moment captured in this poem is unmistakingly heavy with feeling. I love the colors in it, I'm not sure if you understand what I mean by that but there are deep reds, misty grays, cork bottled browns, even an Earth green tone to this poem. Also, your word choice "melt" "monotonous" is so precise and very fitting. Overall, I enjoyed reading it and I hope you continue to write more.
ReplyDeleteXOXO
Jamie Nicole
http://reasons2forget.blogspot.com
thank you, there's always peoms because there are always thoughts.
ReplyDelete