Message to Readers

Thank you for reading this poem. It is my take on the world we live in which is so bright yet, so dark. Please give me feedback, especially those pertaining to diction and style.

Hint: I rhyme with my eye.

The Ballroom, Downtown

May 9, 2016


Worn and torn tyres, scratched paint as I drove
Onto the road of gravel in the parking.
Brown sheets of steel casting shadows to move,
In the garden I stiffly stood, almost sweating.
The blue rose thorny, wilted, untrimmed,
Bowed over to the unroyal unpure leaves.
Moving on, with sore soles entered
I into the Grand Downtown Motel. Like Rhodes
Only after the Turks recarved
The grand city: Almost as ancient,
Almost as complex, Almost as aesthetic.
Double-leaf doors closed, echoing in this most salient
Location of the supremely majestic
Arts acquired at the weekend flea market.
Attached to the high ceiling, the chandelier on rusted chain
Threatened to ruin the waltz, upset
The order of things in our brain.
Light shone but I could not see,
Once again facing a beauty whose glittering face
Too sparkly to possibly, in reality, free
My eyes from the two gaps of orifice
Of dead, dull, desolate but blue eyes.
Amidst the music, I lowered my hand and
Unmasked from which I could not deny,
Asked for another dance.


See History
  • May 9, 2016 - 8:07am (Now Viewing)

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