This is more than words
or four chords
it is not a rock song
it is not a dream
it is not a whisper
but an endless chatter
a hissing
of needles
smoke
and air
So tell me
is it
blood, sweat, tears
shit
or water
is it
tubes, drains, papers
pills
or blankets
that brought you here?
No
it is a machine beeping
clock ticking
heels sticking
to the floor
as you try to walk faster
it is more
than me
or you
or him
it is not beautiful
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9 comments:
wow.
that's all i can say.
I can understand why you'd write this
And it is great the way it is.
Inspiring even.
But since you asked, I'll answer
and my answer is this:
It IS more than words or chords
It is not ONLY a song, not ONLY a dream
But among the whispers, the chatter and hiss
Within the fluids and the flesh
the plastic, paper and cloth
between each beep, tick and click
amidst the urgency you feel
and the time and meaning implied
there is a silent holy moment
that simply doesn't measure
what is you or me or him.
I think this balance is the beauty.
F--ing right Nits. Thats a great poem.
Thanks for the positive words. Just had a bad day at the hospital today.
yes-sah. I'm a sucker for those sounds..beeping,ticking..sticking...
noise. not beautiful, but it sure sooooothes me. tickitty tickitty
Krahn, don't make me bring the soap over to Home street you potty mouth.
Hurray for Nits though.pickitty pickitty.
great poem!
I like the balance and the speed of this.
Ya, very nice, makes me want to have a bad day (but not really)
It is beautiful, even in it's monstrosity.
My kind of dark, I luvs it
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