Peter Calvanese Jr. Poet Free verse

Music Shrouding Misery

This sip tastes so familiar
like sweet canteloupes
mixed with 
red dye No. 4.

My body's filter rejects it
at first,
but as with anything
repitition wears it down.

My problem is not with him though
It is me
My unquenchable thirst 
for disastrous repetitiveness.

The tremors, the cold appendages
the numb taste buds
the hard to swallow fruit
that has been rotting in the 
window sill
of my own tragedy

and i think to myself, 
"If i close my eyes and envision ripened fruit it will taste better"

Half-Truths hurt the confused and i swallow Bitter Sweet Symphonies.

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Carol Sunshine Brown February 17, 2010 at 6:05 AM You have presented to us very interesting poetry today Peter. It was a pleasure to read. Thank you for sharing it with us here at PoetrySoup. Love, Carol