Poems from Painting Pigeons
Those thoughts that flutter aimlessly in my mind; always there, always in motion - the pigeons in head.
A literal understanding of this understanding would present more than enough reason to release these thoughts. Luckily for me, they (figuratively) mould quite easily into ink and thus onto the internet.
My poems are the thoughts of a boy/young man and, like most such musings, they often fall short of their potential
I would gladly appreciate any tips, corrections and/or motivation. :)
Those flittering scenes that
traipse through the windows,
those relics of discourse,
the redolence of vivacity -
Godforsaken duration
in...
The sickle sun crept motionless,
almost - sickly,
as bird and beast awoke.
Calling to the vast everything
that lay within their eyes,
they...
Restless sleep at battles end
and neither dawn
nor day
could ressurect,
The wounded,
weary,
shell shocked Youth
that neither present
nor...