Life On A Wheel

Life to the end of the world
Moments of gasp ahead
Notes dancing in the clouds
Poetry marking its print

Anything becomes a vicissitude
Purple people clapping without clues
Growing in fear and stepping into the lava
Melodic unison acolytes the fun-trust

Like the river swimming in the stars
Like the dancing of keys of thy instrument
Like the genteel patience in my petals
This ethereal promise will illuminate this engagement

Pacify all our imitations and smile
Inflate the heart pump with modesty as shy
Ephemeral pleasures are circumcised affairs
Bound-ground circumstances of youth’s ideals

Life is at the end of this world
Moments that are caving in
Cork forced melodies on the green wall
Old language that strives to breathe.

by Evita Velvet

Comments (20)

Ah, the dreams of an aging poet; but at least she thumbed over your poems as am I; the world is full of poets ever since we had recorded language; thanks to the Mercian's whose teutonic tongue became the scaffold for the English language. You at least, are a good poet, and should displace that idiot Robert Frost over whom so many Americans dote. Nothing personal Robert, you're just not a very good poet like this guy.
vivid scenario wherein you can imagine yourself seeing that reader personally... Fantastic piece! ! ! !
lovely poem and I identify myself completely with it...Thanks for sharing.
hha, if someone gave me a book for free, i would be very happy.
Simply beautiful! Sad plight of a poet! Poor monetary rewards for artists! Still they create, they inspire!
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