Smoke Escapes
Written by
on
in
Vindaloo.
A smokestack rises
There across the city
But the air is too cold
The smoke cannot escape
It falls back to the earth
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Honey on 02/20/2006 5:39 a.m. #
<br />
When cold bites<br />
The blanket of smoke<br />
Becomes a welcome wrap<br />
<br />
Mike Fletcher on 02/20/2006 10:04 a.m. #
Yes, you're right, it was a bit too wordy, how about this:<br />
<br />
A smokestack rises<br />
Across the city<br />
Too cold<br />
The smoke<br />
Cannot escape<br />
Falls back to the earth
Mike Fletcher on 02/20/2006 10:07 a.m. #
Hmm, I think I like the original better, sounds too forced now... Probably just needs a one or two work tweak.
Honey on 02/28/2006 4:02 p.m. #
<br />
Iâm Right? <br />
<br />
I write <br />
That you know one felt<br />
Life in your every word<br />
Maybe not with the heart<br />
In which they were intended<br />
But felt just the same<br />
And ritually extended<br />
<br />
How many others in <br />
Your word world can there be <br />
Will weaken at their caress<br />
Bleed at their wield <br />
Throw at their mercy her distress<br />
Or to their calling yield <br />
<br />
Donât I bring you pleasure Mikey<br />
Donât you feel the pain<br />
Donât you long to draw me close<br />
And rebuff me at the same<br />
<br />
Have my incensed words <br />
Left to the waste of atrophy<br />
The glory of the game<br />
The ecstasy of poetry<br />
Mike Fletcher on 02/28/2006 11:41 p.m. #
I pause<br />
<br />
<br />
Sometimes<br />
<br />
<br />
Before speaking<br />
<br />
<br />
Considering whether to speak
Mike Fletcher on 02/28/2006 11:46 p.m. #
I am a hard man child<br />
Growing up too young<br />
So never growing up