writing like gambling

flowers like junkies

for sunlight

the waves for a taste

of the sand

people for love

and the birds fly carefree

only thinking of eating.

the sun doesn t need anything

content in its hell

oblivious like a grain of sand

on the beach

the air's strange mystery

dead leaves falling through it being

pulled by gravity

and this whole mad universe

is bespeckeled  throughout

with dizzy planets

lonely loves

madmen singing

the blues

scientists planning

rocket ships

and still the universe

hears its own

echo

like the sun

soothed by its flames

the beach ignoring the waves

broken hearted lovers

in the new night

cities crumbling

and new lovers

oblivious to all

except

the universe in their arms

Reviews

[Dalebear]

This is a lovely poem

[.]

lovely absolutely divine!

[Sweet_pale_cacophony]

The last four lines,absolute bliss...:)...you are so true to yourself,i know now why your poems stand out.

[...]

. it's tough to build ... to create ... to construct ... to resurrect ... to rebuild ... to re-invent ... and you excel in it ... the impenetrable walls of the universe are granular ... they could crumble any time ... but magic is what we do with the debris ... and your magic is astounding ... i hope to write like you one day ... but before that ... i hope to see what you see ... in the debris of vowels and consonants ...

[Ed Hart]

the universe isn't mad, though apparently this large house has many mansions

[Emily B]

I don't know much about gambling. Vegas has no charm for me.

But I will give all I have on an instinct. Or a hunch. Writing poetry is much the same.