Hanging Heads

September 25, 2012 § Leave a comment

Sane to say the world never grew

and from a plain past any could brew

lest it gets me deeper in my brain

claiming nothing and none makes full sense

altruist born souls gone wildly insane

for they were long born somewhere that wasn’t theirs

like a bright star in a full vast sky in grey.


O, the Planet’s ancientness

The wiser, the huger the defect

and we are often millions blemishes

wandering and grasping through years in packs.


I sought once to live in a smaller world

whence I’d harvest smiles of kindness

And if a kin of mine would come down

I would simply stretch my hand edge ways

and pin again his dreams in a while

for our proximity would not be strain only to our souls

it would share the responsibility with our bodies’ own.


But I blabber;

By reason of I hear a lonely stream

it longs to say to me

that in a short future there is nowhere for my dreams to be.


And a passerby carriage ran by me;

From its wooden chamber I heard what seemed the stream

led by the noisiest horses

which never slowed its speed.


The world now tiny and frown;

Such as a graceful hand it seized me

Its voice soft but solemn

thus, it dropped a tear in their honor:

“Poetry?” it said to me,

“To frame beautifully your words is such a waste

of fine grammar and raw creativity!”

It never hit me as it should

so here I kept

so here I stood.


The hanging heads

apart of brains

Wise they are

when they complain.


The Planet now a peer;

“To the wise there’s no boundaries!”

they often cheer

but limits are to every seer

otherwise there wouldn’t be none

And the hanging heads would have never been born

into the fast circle cast within.


A dead leaf falls by my hand

as someone congratulates a dumb every now and then

We shall cry no tears for faulty words! –

true it is they can’t always be erased

but you can always strive to write in the line below

and turn in brilliance what first was nothing but wrong.



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