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Coffee Pots
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NO EYELIDS
Rise now from the burdened bed,
redememption and forgetfulness.
The heavens have evaluated,
yet again, the wonder in your day.
Whether complex, emotional,
or plain right vexed in coffee pots,
the inner screams and effort
to weaken self for wiser thoughts,
the clock only stops because
the battery is dead, so is your head,
forlorn, ruthlessly fruitless in a sea
of misgiving worldly energies.
Come and feed my hungry beast.
The third and fourth lines
The third and fourth lines are the center of the poem, and are also two of the most important lines you have written.
Starward