Friday, May 11, 2012


How soon is now.

I’m hearing mellow but I’m not feeling it
And then ? Well then.
So I listen
to now put then away,
another broken piece of yourself.
How much is left,
when every tiny victory in a hill of defeat
Is phyrrhic?
Poets are cracked pots broken in translation.
Now sun streams in the window
as sense goes out.
Pieces of a man.
Pieces of eight.
Put creation in the drawer.
Lock away vulnerability.
Shelter kindness.
Ambition has walked in the door.

I listened to Gil Scott Heron's song on Rachel's blog and wrote this at the same time. Great to be back in the saddle! Well done Rachel!
Take a look here and join in! HERE


Karen said...

Love the flow of this and the language.

Rachel Fox said...

Bless you!

Room on the moped for more...

Totalfeckineejit said...

Thanks Karen! I think it might be a keeper!

Totalfeckineejit said...

Let's hope you get loads of passengers on the magic moped!

Heather said...

Sounds very you and nicely positive, if I have read it right.

Totalfeckineejit said...

Thanks Heather,everyboy always reads a poem right. There is no wrong in my opinion!