deepundergroundpoetry.com
,,,
The sun is bright, sinks down my head
Tell the world to go away
No one writes like you anymore my friend
Write the words, no one knows,
Never more, no not no more,
In my eyes, the world still spins
The guise of people that walk within
Oh speak to me,
Speak with me,
Come to me, and sooth my head
With ancient words, and ancient charms
That could raise the dead,
Hold my eyes, hold my sigh,
Stare my gaze just one more time,
Pray to heaven in keeping thyne ways
The world feels so dead each noon day shine
Hope to hell for better days
Won’t you please come back my way my friend;
The moon is bright, I raise my head,
Oil and heat burn a way,
Cold damp winds dominate the grey
Each night where I stay,
The outside world just disappears
By the shadow on the wall,
And the slamming of the door
There is a slight rising of my fears,
Hairs standing upon neck,
By the lamp where lie my disguise
Where I lay, in disgrace
Naked and abused
The sun is bright, I sink my head
Tell the world just go away,
No one writes like you anymore, my friend
Won’t you please come back my way
Warm winds carry, a heavy stench,
Come to me, and sooth my head
With ancient words, and ancient charms
Melodies soothing and disarmed,
Neath the skies black and ashen grey,
Tell the world to go away
No one writes like you anymore my friend
Write the words, no one knows,
Never more, no not no more,
In my eyes, the world still spins
The guise of people that walk within
Oh speak to me,
Speak with me,
Come to me, and sooth my head
With ancient words, and ancient charms
That could raise the dead,
Hold my eyes, hold my sigh,
Stare my gaze just one more time,
Pray to heaven in keeping thyne ways
The world feels so dead each noon day shine
Hope to hell for better days
Won’t you please come back my way my friend;
The moon is bright, I raise my head,
Oil and heat burn a way,
Cold damp winds dominate the grey
Each night where I stay,
The outside world just disappears
By the shadow on the wall,
And the slamming of the door
There is a slight rising of my fears,
Hairs standing upon neck,
By the lamp where lie my disguise
Where I lay, in disgrace
Naked and abused
The sun is bright, I sink my head
Tell the world just go away,
No one writes like you anymore, my friend
Won’t you please come back my way
Warm winds carry, a heavy stench,
Come to me, and sooth my head
With ancient words, and ancient charms
Melodies soothing and disarmed,
Neath the skies black and ashen grey,
Published 2nd Oct 2015
| Edited 3rd Oct 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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Anonymous
2nd Oct 2015 9:48am
These could almost be song lyrics, they have a very lyrical quality to how they are written and laid out. "no one writes like you my friend" is a stand alone line for me, and is the one that makes the most impact. I think in terms of constructive criticism, some of the internal rhyme that you've got going on feels a little forced in places, but the imagery in here is pretty good and as a theme, continues throughout the piece.
Thank you for the read.
Thank you for the read.
2nd Oct 2015 6:03pm
"Come to me, and soothe my head
With ancient words, and ancient charms
That could raise the dead, "
~damn-fine ink drips of plea do beckon..
your vintage flavors never fail capture my eye, Eddie darlins..
Always managing to capture both light and dark, this piece is no exception. intense are the shadows
of imagery that flutter [brightly] by on read, all senses evoked by the many interwoven emotions here.
"The world feels so dead each noon day shine" & "Warm winds carry, a heavy stench,".. both stand out
heavily as such mind wallops.
and? you know I can't resist the read with such titles, misters.. consider me well-lured plus sated ;)
great day hours to you, dear Wolf..
with much love'n respect,
~d
With ancient words, and ancient charms
That could raise the dead, "
~damn-fine ink drips of plea do beckon..
your vintage flavors never fail capture my eye, Eddie darlins..
Always managing to capture both light and dark, this piece is no exception. intense are the shadows
of imagery that flutter [brightly] by on read, all senses evoked by the many interwoven emotions here.
"The world feels so dead each noon day shine" & "Warm winds carry, a heavy stench,".. both stand out
heavily as such mind wallops.
and? you know I can't resist the read with such titles, misters.. consider me well-lured plus sated ;)
great day hours to you, dear Wolf..
with much love'n respect,
~d
