Saturday, April 23, 2016
POEM: "This Knowledge"
This Knowledge
I never knew each mark of the season
(Secret signs of go and come I don’t know)
Would have a different address in my heart
Or, in traffic buzz supermarkets, a racing beauty
That strange birds would speak the song I heard
Still, my life is dimmed & I wonder what the fuck
What taught us to make the wrong decisions?
Sure, everything sucks from the big remorse
Sure kid, dreadful times take your breath away
Hope is a broken guitar in a garbage dump
Loopy birds land on the strings for a minute
Occasionally you hear it on the winds, I know
That it's not much to go on, on the big back of love
But as Will Shakespeare said, there is always this.
© 2014 Rob Schackne
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The hawk-eyed reader will note that this poem should've been entitled: "After Reading His Sonnet XXIX"
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