'How to Leave the World that Worships Should'
- Ros Barber
Let faxes butter-curl on Dusty shelves.
Let junkmail build its castles in the hush
of the other people's halls. Let deadlines burst
and flash like glorious fireworks somewhere else.
As hours go softly by, let others curse
the roads where distant drivers queue like sheep.
Let e-mails fly like panicked, tiny birds.
Let phones, unanswered, ring themselves to sleep.
Above, the sky unrolls it's telegram,
immense and wordless, simply understood:
you've made your mark like birdtracks in the sand
now make the air in your lungs your livelihood.
See how each wave arrives at last to heave
itself upon the beach and vanish. Breathe.
YOU ARE READING
When you don't know what to say...
RandomThis has become like a diary to me where I put my feelings into scenes, quotes, poetry. But not everything is true, some things are just for the pure creative freedom. Completely and utterly random made up quotes and scenes which describe even the...
