The masters of the universe
The mistresses of pain
The fortunes of the other folks
Their houses down the lane
A passion for veracity
A cavalcade of fun
A phone call in the dead of night
To be the only one
An afternoon of pleasure spent
An instant on the way
An overarching sadness that
Engulfs the everyday
A word or two that hides its face
The comfort we don’t give
The space between infinities
Where we choose not-to-live
The music of the hidden heart
That keeps in how it feels
The whitewash on the sepulcher
The tomb of our ideals
The aftershock the ambulance
The cold and bloody dawn
The moment after of all of it
The tv goes
back on
Wow. !..
Strong and evocative.
in love with the rhythm of your poetry!!!
and emptiness fills the silence but the heart is full.