Poet Hanging Over
It's hard to be a poet when
it's earlier than nine. You're
hanging over, soak and grog,
nursing skull and spine. Just
as sleep has settled with you,
you're ripped from plural soul.
Dreams debated, muddled through,
may crowd you or console. If
you're risen with alarm, and
silence rings betwixt, you
may be late or all too early,
to simply stand and give. But
all the matter to your sullen,
swelling lump of brain, is
the end of day to come and swallow
the dullest ache and pain.
KeithAColeman commented on Poet Hanging Over
01-26-2012
Poetry is what gets lost in translation.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Navy Canopy | 0 | 01/24/2012 |
| Wake Up, Kathleen | 0 | 01/24/2012 |
| Subject of Embracing | 1 | 01/24/2012 |
| Say Go a Pretty Girl | 0 | 01/24/2012 |
| Mobius Amphibious | 0 | 01/24/2012 |
| Hapless Hazard | 0 | 01/24/2012 |
| Poet Hanging Over | 1 | 01/24/2012 |
| Bar Bin Ballooning | 0 | 01/24/2012 |
| If It Rains I Want to Be the Last to Know | 0 | 01/24/2012 |
| Avely | 0 | 01/24/2012 |
| Unattainable Shelly | 0 | 01/24/2012 |
| Saint Schwartz | 0 | 01/24/2012 |
| Black Jelly | 0 | 01/24/2012 |
| Radial Binary (Drunkard in Space) | 0 | 01/24/2012 |
| Dweller on Charlottle Island | 0 | 01/24/2012 |
| Death of the Day | 0 | 01/24/2012 |
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