Today, 07:01 AM
Out the glass panes
Winds slash waves
on a spring lake
The sunlight
repelled by gloom-
like phantoms
bore by people born
from different worlds.
In this poem, what could make a big difference is working with what can be assumed without words.
Glass or panes, maybe waves and sun or light, phantoms (unless it can be more effectively bled into the context of the poem) can spawn a synonym trek, born or bore.
One, grown out of the soil
looking up
One born in the sky
peering down
through clouds
Living in shifts
of coexistence
wearing leather hoods
to avoid each others eyes.
Terrified that they might
see their own contempts
reflection.
Sharp words escape
under whispered breaths
digging in the other’s neck
The one saving grace
in this house on the lake
is telling yourself
There are worse places
to be unhappy.
The end of the poem is what people mean when they say cliche, but worse, as it is what the whole thing leads to and is founded on.
Winds slash waves
on a spring lake
The sunlight
repelled by gloom-
like phantoms
bore by people born
from different worlds.
In this poem, what could make a big difference is working with what can be assumed without words.
Glass or panes, maybe waves and sun or light, phantoms (unless it can be more effectively bled into the context of the poem) can spawn a synonym trek, born or bore.
One, grown out of the soil
looking up
One born in the sky
peering down
through clouds
Living in shifts
of coexistence
wearing leather hoods
to avoid each others eyes.
Terrified that they might
see their own contempts
reflection.
Sharp words escape
under whispered breaths
digging in the other’s neck
The one saving grace
in this house on the lake
is telling yourself
There are worse places
to be unhappy.
The end of the poem is what people mean when they say cliche, but worse, as it is what the whole thing leads to and is founded on.