deepundergroundpoetry.com
Footprints in the fog
... ... ...
Fog flows from peace itself...
And not through Autumn
Mind is forced to stop...
And will is cracked by thoughts
But the soul enjoys every moment
Little moments that happens in between
Visual...
Almost fictional
Soothing...
Reassuring at times of ongoing memories
Haze flows from maturity...
And not through life
Solid existentialism...
Like footprints in the fog
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
Image: "Silver Clouds" reproduction at the Musée d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris.
December 2015, Warhol Unlimited Exposition
Song "Old Friends" Simon & Garfunkel
... ... ... ...
Fog flows from peace itself...
And not through Autumn
Mind is forced to stop...
And will is cracked by thoughts
But the soul enjoys every moment
Little moments that happens in between
Visual...
Almost fictional
Soothing...
Reassuring at times of ongoing memories
Haze flows from maturity...
And not through life
Solid existentialism...
Like footprints in the fog
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
Image: "Silver Clouds" reproduction at the Musée d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris.
December 2015, Warhol Unlimited Exposition
Song "Old Friends" Simon & Garfunkel
... ... ... ...
Published 15th Jul 2021
Author's Note
Image: "Silver Clouds" reproduction at the Musée d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris, Dec 2015, Warhol Unlimited Exposition + Song "Old Friends" Simon & Garfunkel
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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15th Jul 2021 1:48am
Now that's living in the moment! You can't look ahead, or behind.
Great visual Marks
Great visual Marks
15th Jul 2021 1:53am
I appreciate your comment, Mastersensation (Pent).
Thank you for adding this poem to your reading list.
... ...
Thank you for adding this poem to your reading list.
... ...
Song "Old Friends" written by Paul Simon. Performed by Simon & Garfunkel:
Old friends, Old friends, Sat on their park bench, Like bookends
A newspaper blown through the grass, Falls on the round toes,
On the high shoes, Of the old friends
Old friends, Winter companions, The old men, Lost in their overcoats
Waiting for the sunset, The sounds of the city, Sifting through trees, Settle like dust
On the shoulders, Of the old friends
Can you imagine us, Years from today, Sharing a park bench quietly?,
How terribly strange, To be 70
Old friends, Memory brushes the same years, Silently sharing the same fear
Time it was, And what a time it was, It was . . .
A time of innocence, A time of confidences
Long ago . . . it must be . . . I have a photograph,
Preserve your memories, They're all that's left you
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c3NYWzHLEZw
😍🎼👍
Old friends, Old friends, Sat on their park bench, Like bookends
A newspaper blown through the grass, Falls on the round toes,
On the high shoes, Of the old friends
Old friends, Winter companions, The old men, Lost in their overcoats
Waiting for the sunset, The sounds of the city, Sifting through trees, Settle like dust
On the shoulders, Of the old friends
Can you imagine us, Years from today, Sharing a park bench quietly?,
How terribly strange, To be 70
Old friends, Memory brushes the same years, Silently sharing the same fear
Time it was, And what a time it was, It was . . .
A time of innocence, A time of confidences
Long ago . . . it must be . . . I have a photograph,
Preserve your memories, They're all that's left you
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c3NYWzHLEZw
😍🎼👍
