Saturday, November 14, 2009

the boy

He grew up
surrounded by
concrete structure
asphalt bitumen
stone iron steel

had to search
to find a tree
some small of grass
a sky not brown

his song was
from a rooftop
the words a
way
down

a search for
the meditations of grass
incantations of birds

he plays his piano
on the roof
upon an architecture of stone

collision is imminent
catatonia encroaches
he dreams of death
he plays of
graceful arcs of stone
with iron hearts and steel bones
cracked windows

he plays his life

4 Comments:

Blogger Chris Never said...

Ooo, this is something I could have written *smile*, all the incantations etc, weaving magic and urban decay.

Love it, heaps of good stuff , like this

"his song was
from a rooftop
the words a
way
down", how freakin cool is that?

Rhetorical lol

Only suggestion, S2, is that supposed to be "small patch of grass" , or did not mean it as its written, it can work either way so I wasn't sure

Lovely lovely stuff kid

12:52 PM  
Blogger burning moon said...

lol. you're so good to me. thank you :)

it IS something you could have written actually isn't it?

s2, yes, I meant it to be like that. I'm not sure why. just trying to be cute I guess, though it seems to throw everyone off. still, I like it.

1:11 PM  
Blogger Chris Never said...

It can be very hard for writers to change their vision of how a line should read sometimes, I only flagged that you might have meant it that way because you do not often, if ever, make typo's of that kind, so I was fairly sure you meant it.

I love this, its inspiring , I have not written like this piece in quite a while, I should though, its really intricate and interesting poetry to me.

3:45 PM  
Blogger burning moon said...

yeah you should, you should always write about what moves you most, and you always seem most engaged to me when you're writing about social awareness type issues.

7:47 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home