Always fascinated by and called to existentialism in poetry and fiction, this piece hearkens back to the simplicity of such an influence. Mountains. An argument. A train roaring by. The majesty of the morning. All rise and converge, giving way to simplistic acceptance in the form of cyclical indifference. I hope Charles Bukowski would be proud; almost as much as I hope that you enjoy it.
Stones hinged
In jagged mystery
Behind whispered veils
And torrid grays.
A damp earth hinting
The bashful sun
bides it’s peak.
Morning is a majesty
parried
By chaotic wakes.
Hark!
The stolen kingdom!
All is Regicide;
the car
the train
the lovers quarrel
Over coffee-
A public execution.
Mysteries remain
The sun bides less
Unabashed-
Fading
with the grays.
We’ll try again
tomorrow.
About the Creator
Matt Martin-Hall
I've been storytelling since I could form words (and probably before.) I love the vivid imagery of poetry, the unbridled ultima of surrealism, and the fragmented blur of a traumatized mind. Such defines my experience, and I love to share it
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