I close the door to your noise.
Go your way; your ploys and toys.
No longer will we orbit the same sun.
Gravity lays me flattened near undone
Pain and rules are relative.
Results and rain cumulative.
© 2011 Michael Yost
I close the door to your noise.
Go your way; your ploys and toys.
No longer will we orbit the same sun.
Gravity lays me flattened near undone
Pain and rules are relative.
Results and rain cumulative.
© 2011 Michael Yost
Michael, nice to see you at my blog. The “bi-polar” cartoon is funny. I’m not sure where your words take me… enigmatic. I felt in the end that it was about accepting that folks are different, and rules being relative harked to fundamentalists of all religions. Am I wrong?
Thanks for a good read. Amy
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I want to use your comment as author’s note.. ok? ..smiles.. It fits tight and feels right. soahc is what you get when you spell chaos backwards, but nothing really rhymes well with that so this poem fought it ways out.
(I just emailed you the info. Sharing it here not a good idea.)
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playful one.
well done..
Welcome Join Jingle Poetry Potluck week 21,
Feel free to share 1 to 3 old poems or random poems, cheers.
Love your talent demonstrated here,
Hope to see you share.
xxx
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It goes up and down.
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