I own the clock from 4 til 2
striding streets myself again
but 3 am belongs to you
An arrow arced by Japanese yew
the heart of archery & zen
I own the clock from 4 til 2
My head explodes, enfolds Sun Tzu
I command both storm & wind
but 3 am belongs to you
The days are filled with adventures new
& fresh words flowing from my pen
I’m fast asleep at 1 and 2
but in night’s black hole comes something new
like unseen insects across my skin
at 3 am the itch is you
then thoughts of futures lost intrude
& each tick tock’s a raucous din
I own the clock from 4 til 2
but 3 am belongs to you
1 comment:
hey man, I found your website by mistake and was reading your poems.....sounds like you are a bit fragmented. interesting subject though, perhaps taking some writing classes might help get your thoughts together more, you know make a little more sense out of what it is you're trying to say, feels like a neurotic adult trying to be romantic......a bit strange, maybe your on acid??
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