Posted by "Crazy Tom" on Feb 13, 2009 in
Poems A Chords
she plays me like the great piano,
the one pops had given us
before he died.
her icy fingers play the cold,
odd notes of eerie melody,
but when she plucks that coffin
pops lifts the keys
and screams.
she plays the chords
sorrow and despair
in the D-major keys.
while in the ice field
pruning blossoms
hanging on the roof,
I start to realize
I’m halfway there.
Copyright ©2009 Thomas Snyder
Tags: Poems, Writtings
Posted by "Crazy Tom" on Feb 13, 2009 in
Poems Vague
sitting on a horizon not far from my train of thought
i ponder my existance and why they are here
there is no understanding and no compassion
for those that dont belong
the ones who just exist
why
does it take a life
to give meaning to that
something so surreal something
so potent yet something so basic
something that should have always been there
but never is
it is expeceted that i feel this way
but how do i feel
i dont know
you tell me
Copyright ©2009 Thomas Snyder
Tags: Poems, Writtings
