[Laughing Man]

A noose : Time
N.Man


A Clock; the storm,
Collecting absent
Memories in missing
Calamities: Hours, minutes, seconds.
Straggling in open Plains; barren fields,
Stretching out across the traveling sky.
Fingers groping marvels: Humanity.
It is a slender thought, pale, a woman.
Sitting on a bench in a park beneath
Street lamps lighting up garbage cans.
It is holding in its darkness the lives of countless flaws.
And in the end a shimmer
Contorts the face and burns the flesh.
Drops the hatch and
Grabs the tears in moving hands
On 6:30.

[Laughing Man]

Meh...not really complicated, I just wanted to make a poem with just images and not really attempt to hide the meaning.

[Corneac]

Yeah I think you achieved that here, a vivid portrayal of images...I enjoyed this one. For some reason your work, especially this one reminds me of Bruce Dawes poetry...lol. That's a compliment by the way...beautiful

[Laughing Man]

I dont think I ever heard of him till you just said that..I'm going to look at it right now. Thanks.