Why Thales Trips

[Jack of Hearts]

These days I wait here lostly and the days are turning blue
Sat on a bus-bench searching for a face that I once knew
She'll tell me that I'm silly,
She'll tell me that I'm wrong,
That the many, many miles were inches all along

And somehow if I try hard I'll believe the words you say,
I won't notice that I'm lonely or my beard is long and grey
That the distance is a measure, the measure's fantasy
They won't notice that they're lonely, busy people in the street

One day I try their shoes on, decide to walk away
and then they grow their beard out, sit the bus-bench for a day
The story won't be different,
any skin can feel like home
The stories, not all different
Just the means of being told

Somewhere and in someway they're waltzing melodies
Shadow steps and then their bodies are locked in harmony
Somewhere, godsakes, somewhere
Tangled fingers, moments steal
lift the veil high enough
to see distance isn't real

[PrinceMyshkin]

Some quite effective rhythm and rhyme in this and some wonderful lines, e.g.:


The story won't be different,
any skin can feel like home
The stories, not all different
Just the means of being told

[hillwalker]

It's the kind of poem you can't help hearing inside your head as a lyric with some laid-back guitar music as the background.

H

[jajdude]

I tripped up on lostly, otherwise liked.

one of yr best j.

and, i read all yr stuff