Cliff Poems
Wall of Dragons
Wind ripples a still lake like beauty-
I see it easily.
Smog floats from cars, covering with gray
a city perpetually in motion-
I walk through the streets.
Somewhere in the between
children play, popping blown bubbles,
lovers smile, hold hands-
some hearts are in balance.
These observations-simple, glorious, pointless-
are within sightful moments of each other.
I write them to make readable the contradictions that fill circles
in hopes of stabbing the essence and flowing out colors.
My page is white,
my pen is black,
the sky is rainy.
I hear music and there is a blue man dancing, eyes closed.
He is a rainbow (old immortal)
I see it easily.
Smog floats from cars, covering with gray
a city perpetually in motion-
I walk through the streets.
Somewhere in the between
children play, popping blown bubbles,
lovers smile, hold hands-
some hearts are in balance.
These observations-simple, glorious, pointless-
are within sightful moments of each other.
I write them to make readable the contradictions that fill circles
in hopes of stabbing the essence and flowing out colors.
My page is white,
my pen is black,
the sky is rainy.
I hear music and there is a blue man dancing, eyes closed.
He is a rainbow (old immortal)
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Wall of Dragons
Wall of Dragons
