Sometimes,
I catch
myself Swaying,
like there is
an eternal metronome
that my spirit
hears.
Or,
A song that my
soul must keep
time with.
It beats to the art
that surrounds me.
Such a delicate balance,
between the cactus and
the sun.
Between the dog and
the bone.
When they autopsied the
Tin Man, there were
irises and orchids and
Neruda poems where
his heart should have
been.
Love is an overused
word,
but an underused
gift.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 6th, 2024 23:52
- Comment from author about the poem: My kitten, Bukowski, makes a cameo in this video.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Tom C Dylan, Teddy.15, Introverted Sage, Alan R.
Offline)
Comments7
Love is a wonderful gift and so beautiful to be in Thomas.
Andy
Thank you, Andy.
I think this is quite possibly my new favourite TWC post to date .. Neville
Absolutely brilliant, Thomas. Just perfect.
How truly beautiful
When they autopsied the
Tin Man, there were
irises and orchids and
Neruda poems where
his heart should have
been.
Absolutely love this stanza 🌹
Thank you so much, Teddy.
Your piece beautifully evokes the rhythm of life and the delicate balance of existence. The imagery of swaying to an eternal metronome and the juxtaposition of elements create a sense of harmony and interconnectedness. It's a thought-provoking reflection on the depth of love as a precious yet often overlooked gift. Great job!
Thank you so much.
An underused gift indeed.
Beautiful write!
Thank you.
The metaphors are great in this poem. Nicely done
Thanks
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