poetry

spoken word

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poetry || photo || log

Body of a Woman

Trying to hit the eye of the needle
It has been raining a lot lately, luckily there is a gutter where time beetles
The water's floating down the drain
Every drip drop sound sound promising as if they are pallbearers for change
Loathly swore the oath of secrecy
Ended up as vigilantes protecting freedom of speech in a land of indecency
There's a life story on each end of the rope
So many thoughts and wills on the slope, but hardly any force able to cope
With a rope that’s like a thin line
Between two opposites walking toward each other with steps yet so refined
Afraid of looking down on the rime
But ...they will inevitably eventually meet somewhere along the line
Opposites attract, and make a great match
Therefore they should walk without bothering about if there is any catch
To the offer that has been given
Life's a risk, but living without antes is practically living in indifference
There’s a sound that’s missing, listen
The peaceful sound of hummingbirds kissing, while leaves are whispering
There's a fairytale yet to be told
The stage's the body of a woman, and the audience is her black heart and soul
The river broadly runs through it
The tones of pouring water through hills and grass fields form life’s music
And like the seasons are changing
The colours may reflect the artists mood in his or her own landscape painting
A muddy piece made of soil and water
These are the words the world preys on, but in the end feed its sons and daughters...

© Martin Ångnell 2010 - 2017