Angry fists fall from the sky
Like rain drops in a thunder storm.
The thud, thud, thud,
On my head reminds me of
That time we fucked.
I told you it was love
And you laughed because
You knew
It was just violence we were after.
I still taste your tears in the mornings
When I dream about our songs.
The words are all lost
But the melody persists
Like gifts on Christmas
Day to say I love you
Christ, I love that you
Left me here alone.
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3 comments:
Ho! Ho! I know this poem! This is one of the secret hidden from the blog poems! I watched Steve write this one at his pad and had nothing to say to improve it. now that i look at it again the only thing i might suggest would be to remove the "Like" on the second line before rain drops.
would you still feel that way if you knew that the angry fists are real, literally physical, the voice of this poem is not in the rain. I realize how that might not be clear. Working on something to help make it more obvious.
Well, I like the imagery in the first block, stanza, whats the terminology?
And in the second part I get lost.
No fault of the author though, I need to spend more time thinking about it...
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