After playing about 100 games of Scrabble, you probably get bored. My friend J and I decided one day to create separate pieces of poetry based on the words we formed after one of our games. It's amazing how circular and cyclical things are. Buddha would be proud that I reached this revelation. (Does Buddha feel pride? hmmm )
Anyway here it goes:
I lost my tread long ago
And I skid,
Slipped into a maze.
Yips and yells I cry,
No man hears me.
Moons rise over the quays
And cast beams onto my sleepy face.
I shake my fists at them,
Realizing how much time has passed
Since you left.
Winders of the clocks
Create the tick. tock.
Banter of passing seconds.
Beet-red blood pumps through me.
Heart against mind:
Long it has been since I felt the trap.
Jaws of Jealousy lock me into place.
Coveting causes suffering.
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2 comments:
Hehe, creativity born out of boredom. :P
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