What If All the Matter
didn't
i look up
hoping to
see the sky fall
you ignore down
is its opposite
writing from the grooves
that print my fingers
i see the hapiness
i could have goat
did he mean got
caught a splinter of light in fingered tips
rode an autumn leaf
on its way down the drain
Upstart starts up
i write of crysal shape cities
trapped within the concrete at my feet
i write of ring arose
with clouds of differing greys
of eyes with nothing behind
cuts and bruises outline
my prone
trying to never learn
writing lies the truth wont turn
did ya miss me
should have bought better scopes
Sneak behind you with unsheathed pen
your sopping bled
just fuel-topical or what
for my quill
will to not have one
Upping daisies in liquid green
as breeze trickles by each blades
never use my mind to fight
all you unarmed
the buzzing fly in attic space
where from side slanted windows
moon fingers
from an empty box
pull and pool
with lines of light
dancing dust fairies
diamondize in its gentle stroke
this poem has a lot of ups and downs
Copyright © Christopher Quigley | Year Posted 2021
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