deepundergroundpoetry.com
The House
The bells keep on chiming
But I’ve lost my timing
My words feel like miming
And not some sublime thing
The rain weeps by falling
Dark voices are calling
As my thoughts start stalling
Over some beast crawling
So take your eyes away
If you blink you must stay
In night-land with no day
So run off and go play
Don’t follow what I know
It’s not some fake dream-show
But some place where freaks go:
The house of Dementico
But I’ve lost my timing
My words feel like miming
And not some sublime thing
The rain weeps by falling
Dark voices are calling
As my thoughts start stalling
Over some beast crawling
So take your eyes away
If you blink you must stay
In night-land with no day
So run off and go play
Don’t follow what I know
It’s not some fake dream-show
But some place where freaks go:
The house of Dementico
Published 30th Jun 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.
2nd Jul 2012 2:43am
Oooooh, the private place, the unknown ethereal spare philohole. It takes much courage to open that space up and show others even window glimpses of it. I like this piece. I flowed it out loud and it went well over Jethro Tull's guitar riffs.
