Rush

Listen to poem:

Swiftly on a carousel With a swivel-headed lizard. Rushing to beat that loathsome bell As she raises distortion to blizzard. How can one write in a fortress of ice In a mummified husk With the spirit all sliced And knuckles as white as polished tusks. Rushing to complete without passion Fruitless in pasting composure Peace is not here now in fashion In this house, not a home, where I had her. Teetering on a precipice I can neither backspace or go towards her. Punishment for a youthful fleece Or the fear of flying forward.

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Tom Quigley

Date: 4/22/2016 6:56:00 PM

Very nice write! Definitely got the feel of the whole mess if not the details...

Poet Destroyer A

Date: 4/21/2016 11:54:00 AM

WOW, Amazing the imagery.** How can one write in a fortress of ice In a mummified husk <--- Love the line... I really like the way you summed every line. LINDA

Tom Arnone
Date: 4/21/2016 1:29:00 PM

Thanks, P. D., I was in a ... turbulent relationship when this "fortress of solitude" type poem was created.... ;-)