Of Poetry and Sound: Raw Free Verse of an Overthinker
Come this cold winter’s bend
Uncle gets the first laugh
at year’s end
Enjoying the view
As the ten-ton steam train
Named Reality
Hurdles straight into
January resolutions
Sending financial plans spiraling
down to the penny-scrambled ground
Waiting for pittance paid Piper
Cradled in April
Commoditizing the human soul
To itemize each aching woe
on the tear-measured days
of the taxation craze
Look for why
and it’s only more elusive
Puffs of smoke caught
in shimmering reflection
In a world of endless information, we are part of the ever-expanding internet era. The soft glow of our phone’s light may caress our face as head meets pillow, but inevitably it keeps us up later at night when we find falling asleep nearly impossible. The snake and the tail, oxymoron becometh, it succeeds in perpetuating a cycle of worsening sleep habits that lead us to pull out the phone in bed. I’m guilty of it, so so guilty of it.
Kindled Shadow Poetry