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I shall interview a crowd of concrete cows
about their plight, the torturous existence
of life without a reason, no appetite
for the verdant, no thirst for the essence.
Nothing will be sacrosanct in this exchange.
The true intent of the cow creators will come
to fruition. The cows are mummified charms
and the meaning is in the green. The bovine
bastions complain about the lack of vital
components when we create and develop
Great Things, but we are missing something
colossal in itself - the weighing of hearts
and feathers – the power of communication
without excising or making sacrosanct the crux,
the desire to be where we want to be, to feel
what we want to feel, to ride with white rapids.
~Coral~
I shall interview a crowd of concrete cows
about their plight, the torturous existence
of life without a reason, no appetite
for the verdant, no thirst for the essence.
Nothing will be sacrosanct in this exchange.
The true intent of the cow creators will come
to fruition. The cows are mummified charms
and the meaning is in the green. The bovine
bastions complain about the lack of vital
components when we create and develop
Great Things, but we are missing something
colossal in itself - the weighing of hearts
and feathers – the power of communication
without excising or making sacrosanct the crux,
the desire to be where we want to be, to feel
what we want to feel, to ride with white rapids.
~Coral~
2 comments:
*bows down before the awesomeness that is Coral* Yet another beautiful peice. Biting, this one. I like. Then again, who wouldn't?
~muse
Muse,
Thank you for your kind comments on this poem. As usual, you exaggerate my expertise in the arena of free versification, but flattery WILL further your objectives. Perhaps employing a little subtlety might stretch the sweet, pink bubble gum a little further. However, I am fairly pleased with this poem, which may be lengthened sometime in the future. Just a thought, thinking aloud.
With warm regards,
Coral
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