Sleeping depression gravitating bedís dead weight
Sunken sensations swallowing sad sleepy sorrows
Spring fight recoiling, jettisoning sunshine mourning
Flightís light, billowing grey boring overcast morning.
Dull dreary promise blankets any outlook changing,
Swirling gulls with buzzard vision scavenging
Searing eyes penetrating skeletonís stripped core,
Naked soul - laid bare alone - so alone evermore.
Sigh deep within heartbeats vibrations - hurting so,
Chilled on tears frozen silent in whispered hope
Lying dormant volcano spewing inside empty words.
What is the reason to reach up, open vocal cords?
Shallow scream aloud whimpered motel tomb
Words evaporating canvas moisture to parchment.
Enamored loveís verse haunted enamel patches
Weathered wrinkled, raisin prune draining doom.
Storm ripping apart innards, flesh of emotions cries,
Wailing downpour drowning desperation breathes
Fighting on against the currents RIP tides moans,
Mindís winds twisting turning whirlpool hurricane.
Lost, so lost desolate desert disconcert dry mouth
Shell existence wish, still crawling inside a drough.
Dry ice melting clouds tears on surrounding details
Cocoon of a Poet blossoming change in scenery.
Oh, dance with me, open this silver lining fantasy
Spring forth your smile of pure enlightenment.
Cyan baby blues, pillowed satin soft silk pillows
Cocoons of wilted darkness whisked away - kiss.
Bliss of wild flower stems glow, growing brilliant
Butterflies hatching fresh air blossoming spirit - bright
Rainbow waterfalls painting poetryís magical verse
Quenching singing smile stanzas - dispersing a hearse.
Spread your wingís mind so ever clear Artmosphere.
Sculpture divine tranquility in being a blessed artist
Paint your HeArt upon imagery, Godís ceiling canvas,
Michelangelo ride the roller coaster full spectrum.
In living life without fear, faith never denied its words!
Note: The magic of Poetic verse is that it will write the roller coaster of emotions in living lifeís frustrations that weather within our words in seasons of a poetís existence.
David L. Young 02/13/08©
De-Terminated poet, somewhere in America not on company time