The curtain drapes sway next to my cheek,
those sunrays pierce through my lone smile,
the room looks gilded and I sit with a book…
if it doesn’t come bursting out of you,
let it be love, hate, contempt, or inspiration,
there’s nothing true to be explored here…
Many a times universal statements,
and contemplations of the lonely heart
in Bukowski’s words to read
in between the lines –
it’s life!
Straightforward he talks to me,
talks to all through a language,
as he struggles to tie me with it
there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him…
With my coffee mug and a pencil,
as I read his lines and start…
the journey is bursting out of the tunnel,
with passerby windows lit,
on trembling tracks to infinity…
As his tough words pull and tug
at the curtains, secrets are revealed –
the wildness and the harshness,
it’s life…
it’s a challenge to the dark!
Silver trophy winner
Adding your comment:
Thanks a lot for the comment and the trophy.. I am glad you foudn the poem appropriate, and interesting. Thanks a lot. Love. Sam.
Love. Sam
