Routine

Poem By Warren Augustus de Guzman

Day in and day out,
They file into lines.
Up and round about,
Each takes up vines.

Slivers of whisk,
Tickets to train.
Travel so brisk
Sun, sleet or rain.

Later today,
The same routine.
Different way,
A 180, clean.

Day in and day out,
They file and they weave,
In, down, up and out,
So hard to believe.

Comments about Routine

There is no comment submitted by members.


Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of DE GUZMAN

Fleeting

Fleeting is the night when I am with you.
hours seem like minutes,
minutes seem like seconds,
seconds seem like moments.

A Hint Of Nostalgia

A swig of ale for the good old boys,
Who play non-stop with old men’s toys,
Stay up all night not to read or write,
But to woo the girls or scare up a fight.

It

Wretched and putrid, it made its way across the alley,
Straight into a pile of synthetic filth and human garbage,
And as I continued on my way
It popped its head out and stared directly into my eyes.

Binary

Numbers on the counter
In the gym,
On the scale,
On the box of cereal,

One Night

An orchid in a sewer of a night
Salvages the monotonous droning of the commonplace
A vodka shot of omnipotent white
A mischievous grin shot across the room to my face.

A Shy Wretch

How is it
That I am free
When I am alone,