Friday, May 1, 2009

Unorganized Orderliness

I wrote this with a thought of something completely random throughout the body of the poem - yet still makes sense in a way. One thing leads into another and I think it fits together really well.


Stephen Frerichs


Roaring through the jungles

Stumbling through the tumbles

Listening to my music

Focusing on that tasty lick

Tantalizing flavor

Look for friends and for favor

This poem makes no sense

If you are one who dwells in ignorance

These are my thoughts

Unfiltered, raw and bloodshot

Like my eyes

I watch from afar as the innocent dies

Studying the material

Trying to keep my cool and not turn serial

As a killer

Don’t make me kill her

Her – my imagination

Don’t think wrong of my imitations

Of others in books

Of others I see in looks

From those around

Evil and love and war abounds

Writing randomly

Spilling my soul

Bleeding it out

On paper – now you can find the route

To What I’ve been thinking on

But wait I’m not quite done

With this poem – incomprehensible

Ending it now would be inconceivable

Talking to you

Attempting to destroy my feelings of blue

Venting my mind

So you can find

Some understanding into where I am standing

where I’m going to be landing

solving the puzzle

leaving you puzzling

wishing to stop

the tick-tock and drop

the drip of time

that is my life

this is random

is there any more? um…

No comments:

Post a Comment