Roll AwayA Poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt
The waving sands have stopped parading.
The chalice is finally empty. The moon has finally won.
Tools spread out on the floor. Which one will fix the
plastered photographs left like sinking ships alongside
The classic words moaned in anger as the bells
stop their tones. The divine armoury found stagnant
as the doors to the sacred crumble into tiny pieces
The pursuing sonnets sprayed like dust upon the
walls of the jail. Living tissue withering in the
flipping wind that rushes past the sun. The good
news is spread like yesterday's newspaper
into frying idols lying upon the decaying tissue
The typecast stereotype of painting brushes running
like flies out of the dung. Among the many illusions
lies the truth buried in a chain. The old and new
perceptions indicating it has become the time to
© 2011 Chris G. Vaillancourt
Added on June 19, 2011
Last Updated on June 19, 2011
Chris G. Vaillancourt
Windsor, Ontario, Canada
AboutOver 200 of my poems have appeared in more than one hundred journals in the U.S. and Canada, in Japan and Australia, and the U.K. I have had a series of chapbooks published in the 1980's by 4 Wi.. more..
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