John Weber Poet Shape

Once Kinetic

I spy
a comfortable
chair at the sympathy
pantry while huddled at
the blast door near the entrance.

All
Hallows
Eve beckons
like a wild rush of
frigid, Canadian air,
rendering all clothing
mute in utter repentance.

My
mask
shall rule
from the inside
since all grotesque
notions begin their lurch
toward inevitable conclusions
in the cacophony of my humming
electrical circuit of potential lethargy.

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Carol Sunshine Brown November 3, 2009 at 4:18 AM Thank you for sharing your awesome poetry today John. Love, Carol

Carolyn Devonshire November 2, 2009 at 6:44 AM The first verse really draws in the reader, John. Guess it's easy to sit in comfort "at the sympathy pantry," but there is the potential that such action will lead to lethargy. Amazing write from an amazing writer! Love, Carolyn