Sounds of the Glass House
The cricket patiently waits for the sun and his wonders
Beyond the sea of love, vibrations climb and ecstasy of rotations
A white line dust the simple breeze, clearing the magnifying memories
Crawling along the shore
The ethereal landscape of bruises bouncing through the needles point of surrender
A climate of words stranding on a minefield of expectations
Carefully undress the honey of Eden waiting to claim the lives of lost children
The weight of the air awakens the known keeper of hearts
Whispering inside their lamented of the last kiss
Each movement penetrating through the concrete of solace
A flower sits far beyond the eye sight
Asking for the last breath of pure understanding
Cruelty passes by with an aroma of destruction
Plenty of selfish thoughts as the tear drop
From the mother letting go to the endless
Outcry of poverty. . .
Rony Joseph all rights reserved 2009
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Comments: 9
You have, as dawn has pointed out, rounded it up beautifully."The ethereal landscape of bruises bouncing through the needles point of surrender" is a amazing phrase.
Time’s lust for life
Thank You for your kind words
God Bless You
Sounds like very rough times here. And, you can feel the pain of it.
This is a very powerful piece.