Poets logo

Timely Tittles, Longing for Skittles

Confined to the Black and White Things of This Page

By Rowan Finley Published 6 years ago 1 min read

Rest on the hammock of treble and bass,

or walk the tight line of refining grace.

Pulsing rhythm, humming beat,

melodic music, memories soon greet.

Dancing in time with the words of the song,

or walking down roads where we simply don't belong.

Dare what we might,

or mind what we dare.

Like a still, moving clock who never has time to stop and stare.

We rest assured in the community of this song sheet,

though sometimes we wish to slide down rainbows on a different street.

Does not creative expression and adventure await?

Or, are we forever stuck in a continuous stale state of checkmate?

Longing to change time signatures, but it has long ago been signed,

feeling quite mentally caged and overly confined.

We've been played again and again and and now feel used,

sitting here, impatiently reckless, bewildered and bemused.

surreal poetry

About the Creator

Rowan Finley

Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.

Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.

Subscribe For Free

Reader insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment
    Written by Rowan Finley