Wednesday, May 12, 2010


Nobody Stops to ask the boy
Why he quietly acts like an idiot
Is it self esteem or plagiarism,
Or the back end of a ruler
That struck him hard to his inches?

Feeing is for cowards
And no one even thinks to guard themselves
We're a world wide floating emoticon
Perched on the tailslide of last week's news

Don't yell it...
Turn your caps off
If you can hold on
Hold on
Hold to it and think
The future isn't always that

Seems like I heard your voice
In the rustling of pages
It's all I can do now to sit here
And think about what was; what wasn't,
And what damn well never will be.


Cotton Blossom said...


I also will be interested to see if the flood leads to any poetry.

TS Hendrik said...

I have actually written some things as a result.

In a way this is a flood poem. I wasn't going to put it on my blog, but it was one of three poems I was able to save from a destroyed notebook, so I felt like it earned a place.

Alexis said...

I really, really loved this one. Loved these lines:
"feeling is for cowards
and no one ever things to grard themselves"