dara.cv
08-18-2009, 01:00 AM
Im trying a go at writing whatever comes to mind, and seeing what it comes up with.
When the bell rings
I walk
as i always have before
on cracked platelets of concrete
their steep rise and ridged falls
peaks of mountains which i often stumble over
i guess
the familiarity of routine
will never earn precedence
over my clumsiness
when the bell rings
i am released
to a setting dusk
of smoky grays
dusty browns
and muted purple
I feel so muted
when the bell rings
I follow
down
the lone tar road
the green mile
rowed with saplings dug in this year
their young leafy spikes
striking ridicule at the steely
walls that confine us
to this life
blocking our sun
the church bell rings
and i still see their faces
low hanging skin
deep recessed eyes
shadowed by the looming city
dulled
as somber as mine
When the bell rings
I walk
as i always have before
on cracked platelets of concrete
their steep rise and ridged falls
peaks of mountains which i often stumble over
i guess
the familiarity of routine
will never earn precedence
over my clumsiness
when the bell rings
i am released
to a setting dusk
of smoky grays
dusty browns
and muted purple
I feel so muted
when the bell rings
I follow
down
the lone tar road
the green mile
rowed with saplings dug in this year
their young leafy spikes
striking ridicule at the steely
walls that confine us
to this life
blocking our sun
the church bell rings
and i still see their faces
low hanging skin
deep recessed eyes
shadowed by the looming city
dulled
as somber as mine