PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The undertow of this particular moment
has built up, over time
A paradox, contradiction, I know
Perhaps I'll call it a reoccurring dream
where I don't sleep
It just dissipates with the smoke
Local sirens remind me of the rush I
wanted to feel years ago
When memories could be buried, then re-born
Now I study every arch and angle
and I bleach the thought before it forms
Forgive me if I forget what is forgotten already
And I cannot consume the chills that are dripping off of you
A surface with a current too heavy
purged words
all over the floor
Tapered wings
pinned to the wall
on black posterboard
It is the undertow of the dream that is not a dream
of withered roses pressed in some favorite book
the momentum of a rush that dissipates with the smoke
some present, past, and future
that I wanted to feel years ago