Triumph: a story written in the wind...

May this be to allow your poetry to form motion however poetic or otherwise it may be :-)
Post Reply
Posts: 8
Joined: Mon Apr 17, 2017 6:54 pm
Been thanked: 1 time

Triumph: a story written in the wind...

Post by pmmurphy » Sun Apr 30, 2017 8:01 am

even though i knew your face-
you faded into the darkness

The men at the table...

darkness ploys, down delicate distance
where freedom rings.

people are around my table,
oh how does freedom sing.
men toy as others cry
like a empty bottle of jack.

that was where the mistress informed
of the next plundered attack.

with Glee i jumped,
out my seat,
to see the damsel
in distress.

with Glee i arose
from my chair
to kiss the damsel
leaving a great big mess.

even though darkness lingers-
we faded into the shadows

The table...

the tedious table tells vivid tales
where etchings can come true

the table trots and twirls
in the attic
or in the room.

we carved our ways through
mysterious times
where tables can confuse

for this table stays
and keeps its praise
not letting you consume.

not a minute later you drank the pitcher
not knowing who else might be there,
but with no coaster you left
knocking over every single chair.

for the men in darkness-
only sing to tales asunder

The bards tune...

with tales asunder
days of plunder
we broke until we can break no more
we drank of tales
and pitched in Wales
animals of all platoons.

we swabbed our decks
and guessed and checked
for times where you could sue
the doctors lady
oh bald grand Brady
she had tits the size of Me-loons

she gave the beer and often leered
letting the men know.
that even though they drenched and soaked
their lives in her glow
she only took a final look
around the corner where people stayed
they hope and prayed
for days she stayed
oh Brady, the vivacious babe.

so with a drink, the men stopped to think
that there tales, will often glow
to Brady's hair, the golden dare
that she might just stop to show
that when they drank
their last round to thank
her, they all stopped in chants...

for Brady clanked, and often spanked
the men who parted last...

so as the day slipped by-
she took to her demise
a fabled past we couldn't see.

with Brady's baby we all
spoke lately, of times we couldn't be.
we gave a distance and thought
and listened
for chants of all men,
but as we left the times in best
it was Brady, who finally showed her chest.


Post Reply