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Poet Drawn To Love

by Walter Jones (Age: 72)
copyright 02-02-2010


Age Rating: 18 +


I was this side of heaven
She this side of hell
Our spirits were drinking
Hear that old church bell

Caverns deeper than the walls of name
Clear the pathway
Burn the game

Comfort in words played
Anger sentence stayed

Oftener judge lays the gavel down

Over in the corner onto streets of a clown
A manner quite truthful
A whisper in heat
Drugs of the other
Sold on the street

I am the window
You are the soul
Through the door we wander
Never to grow to fast or too old

Beds of the father
Wives of the bride
Every gurgle
Is the loss of love
On earths dying tide

I was this side of heaven
She this side of hell
Our spirits were drinking
Hear that old church bell

..and the wind wakes
shells move
ball falls
cupped hand
we live by the gun
die by failure to understand






Visitor Reads: 642
Total Reads: 654
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        02-23-2010     Cynthia Baello        

Such distinction of opposites but a merging of emotions as the two meet (or collide) in the verses.
A sense of melancholy comes at a somewhat tragic encounter and the end "a failure to understand".
The poem is intense in the story process, fleeting fragments laid out but conclusive outcomes left open like "I am the window You are the soul...Never to grow too fast or too old." I find it is a statement of life as we all humans tend to live it.

        02-03-2010     Mae Futter Stein        

Hi Walter,
That was a different write. Two sides of life meeting in the middle. Very good imaginary dreams developed into an interesting poem. Thank you for sharing. Mae



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