Bizarre...

The fourth cold cemented square,

Visited by an occasional breeze or dusty afternoons,

Sits a lonely set of eyes,

With a smoke and pen in his hand,

 

Weighed his tears against all odds,

In a purple haze lives all lost,

Feeds on pretence and inhibitions,

To take hands off the humane,

 

Searching for something sublime,

Among meadows, trees and foggy mornings,

The wastes piling up beside him,

Curses fate which can’t cheat,

 

There! A girl with a horrid look,

A culminating crisis with the play,

Tea "tasters gone astray,

And time piles up more after each heart beat,

 

But the pen doesn’t stop,

Rise and fall, love and decline, reason and rigidity,

All converge into a bizarre painting,

Of a day that never was,

 

And just when everything starts falling into place,

Ease oozing like nothing’s denied,

A stranger seems to know who he is,

Wakes him up from life to a dream...

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

'But the pen doesn’t stop,
Rise and fall, love and decline, reason and rigidity"
So many strong statements in this poem. I had to read a few times. Life can become a dream or nightmare. Sometime we must stop and think where we are heading. A excellent poem.
Coyote

[Khaaki]

There is a certain spark in your words, a glow that makes me smile and feel good. You are going places as a poet and a thinker. I loved the whole poem. and the last stanza is simply amazing...

[Adelia Alighieri]

I'm not the best at analyzing but I think this could have been amazing if with rhyme. But it does work anyway, it's got emotions; an authentic criterion for saying it's pretty good indeed. Well done.

[Emily B]

this is amazing stuff

[.]

. sorry this won't be a detailed one ... shall come back later ... just moved apartments ... but this is absolutely spectacular ... you are going places as a poet and as a human ... and look how you glow despite everything that doesn't work out ...