The Quiet
staring at the ceiling
with no ryhme or reason
dreaming up tales
of high seas and high treason
i ponder my nothings
in the Quiet
speculating about time
and life and romances
planning my life
like coreographers plan dances
i plot out my course
in the Quiet
praying for my sins
and for errors and vices
for forgiveness of past
and present enticements
i make my amends
in the Quiet
babbling nonsense
'bout liquor fed streams
thinking about our skins
and how we're made with no seams
i throw all sanity to the wind
in the Quiet
now nodding my head
i drift near to slumber
where i'll dream first of love
then of armies torn asunder
i now lay vulnerable and sleeping
in the Quiet
Copyright © Joshua Aguire | Year Posted 2008
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment