Plastic current feeds
Thickly lined air
Torrential riches pour
On crispy jacket walls
And softens bleeding paper
Liquid people push off from their docks
And wait with hungry tummies
And open mouths
As slippery gold is displaced
On sticky wool
It steals some glory from your metal, handmade jewelry
The ticking looses tempo
And heartbeats switch rhythm
To the beat of his drum
The burning orb of a thief
Demands cool currency
Through the evaporation wire
And they obey to save their hidden stash
But then add to the treasure
With these very savings
Through oozing tear ducts
Their hearts are heavy
After viewing such a waste
All that wealth churned
Into fuzzy vapor
By an impressive tyrant
With a pretty burning hand
About the Creator
Harvey Elwood
I used to write constantly (journals, poems, short stories) but these days I mostly write lyrics. I am looking forward to participating in challenges as a way to get inspired and un-stuck.
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More stories from Harvey Elwood and writers in Poets and other communities.
Four Minute Carnival
It started in the hall, after the rain of ringing, in all ears, through every wall. It really started just inside the door, where our legs burned in place. My feet scrubbed the carpet, tapped impatiently behind me. I close my eyes to cut off their sensibility and let all the conversation smash together, creating a kind of static music. I feel an ache beginning just between my shoulder and neck. My book bag straps are little pink bursts in the corners of my eyes. The voices are stilling, two by two until the silence is complete. It's as though the clock has stunned its victims with a paralyzing, soundless cloak while we wait for permission to commit motion. The poison wears off. A twanging, far away alarm snaps them from their daze. They launch all at once through a portal, which was intended for maybe one or two to pass through at a time.
By Harvey Elwood2 years ago in Poets
Comments (1)
This is awesome and describes so much of our world today. Nicely done Harvey.