Details |
Leslie Tapscott Poem
Unwavering Instrumentals
Of Silence and Snow
Address Us In Cool
Flurried Fragments
Casting Plaster Paragraphs
Of Quiet Notes Which
Lay, Quilting Georgia Flats
And Other Places
In Need Of No Great Equalizer
For True Turbulence, There is none.
A Make-shift
White Washed World
Momentarily Cleaned of impurities
A soft Caucasian Solace
To be muddied by Sullen Shoes
Tracks of progression
Translate into streams
Of Colored Chorus
And malevolent reward
Melt down into Moth-Eaten Mistakes
Classic Chords of Speculation
With great intent,
Comes unclaimed consequences
That the disciples of silence
Will surely be back
To Once Again Incubate.
Beautiful yet Sinister, Like Your First
Slowly With No Emotion,
The Composition Stacks Bit by Bit
Rhythmically putting weight
On that which will Happily fall.
Copyright © Leslie Tapscott | Year Posted 2014
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Details |
Leslie Tapscott Poem
I love the infected nature
In which pictures burn
The high degree of
Chromatic mixtures
Of papers and plastics boil
Smoke filled memories and feeling
Rise and curl and dissipate into
Moisture filled air cutting
Though blended blue skies
And chocolate nights
Feeding redwood fern forests
Sheltering the cool crows
Directed by mountain tops
Snow melting to trickle
To stream, champion cricks
To rivers and to sea
Muting the stern ambers
Last cry of warmth
one last flicker
As the frozen exposure ignites
Naked passions spawning
Forget me not fears
And tears for loved ones
Who`ve simply just melted away
In a vast array of boxed
Cracked smiles and heavy poses
That will now simply
And quietly fade into
The comfortable chest
The open arms
The safe keeping of oblivion.
Copyright © Leslie Tapscott | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Leslie Tapscott Poem
Unwavering Instrumentals
Of Silence and Snow
Address Us In Cool
Flurried Fragments
Casting Plaster Paragraphs
Of Quite Notes Which
Lay, Quilting Georgia Flats
And Other Places
In Need Of No Great Equalizer
For True Turbulence, There is none.
A Make-shift
White Washed World
Momentarily Cleaned of impurities
A soft Caucasian Solace
To be muddied by Sullen Shoes
Tracks of progression
Translate into streams
Of Colored Chorus
And malevolent reward
Melt down into Moth-Eaten Mistakes
Classic Chords of Speculation
With great intent,
Comes unclaimed consequences
That the disciples of silence
Will surely be back
To Once Again Incubate.
Beautiful yet Sinister, Like Your First
Slowly With No Emotion,
The Composition Stacks Bit by Bit
Rhythmically putting weight
On that which will Happily fall.
Copyright © Leslie Tapscott | Year Posted 2014
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