Friday, August 12, 2016

Wood Burning


This is what we wanted but it's not what we got.

"I couldn't even
burn the wood", you said to me,
looking that way for
the thousandth damn time,
as if it was my fault again
that the wood was bad
or just whatever
was so wrong with me this time

and I get heavy
with it all, heavy
under your relentless press
on my aging heart.

Written July 29, 2011 12:25 PM
Modified August 12, 2016 6:35 PM

2 comments:

  1. That's all we have


    Those were the days
    Weren't they
    When the world
    Like a drum line
    had its way
    With the street
    Feet pounding
    To the beat
    Drums crash like guns
    Cacophony
    Bloody metronom
    Tick tick tick
    Ing
    Its way into that
    Little hole
    Dead center in our soul
    Drilling its way
    And we didn't even know
    If we would make it
    Another day
    While at night
    We lay
    As asleep we think
    If I move she will wake
    Inside me
    There is a break
    And all I need
    All it will take
    Is one more hurt
    So still that leg
    If you try
    You might just sleep
    Make it another day
    That's all we have though
    After life has its say
    We hold our tongue
    Its the only way
    Its the only way
    Because
    We only have a day
    We only have a day


    Chris McQueeney ©2016

    ReplyDelete
  2. There's a poetry monster loose in the world.

    ReplyDelete

The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.


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