Friday, 14 September 2007

Give me the keys to Creation

hello poem….

this is the poem I wrote

when I was trying to write

a poem; if it’s a poem at all

it’s got strength in it

and love, lust and affection

it’s got lush green trees

and red soil, it’s got

highways and field paths

and birds and nests

it’s got rain puddles

sun shiny queens

and a verandah with a rocking chair

I feel thunder

The one I wrote yesteryear

had secrets of sleuths

and foreign hotels

it had strings and biting off tags

and sins, rages, jealousy

it had speeding cars

and swinging lights

bitten nails and fear

it had torn down fences

and a trickle down a chilled glass



~lily

2 comments:

Underchilde said...

you swing loose, and i love your red soils...

always love your words, lily...

Lily said...

the mountain i live at the base of, is made from red soil, a great big mound of rich red soil.. the farmers and flower growers love it, because they can take and take from it, and not put anything back in.. it's sorta magic..

reminds me of some people.. many people actually.. fucken take take suck drain take so they can live .. vampiric really.. lol

i just want to sit in a rocking chair, with a view..

oh to be a tree... or a bird..

anywayz, gone on long enough....

thaaaaaanks Childe, for being here, being you..



peace



~lily
xox