Tanked
The sputter can surprise us
Running wide ass open
Taking no prisoners
Casting laughter like caution
To the wind
Blowing up a storm of passionate dreams
And friends cheering us on
The road turns, twisting
Thought and perceptions
Into unrecognizable shards
Broken, poured out, spilled
Across memories of tomorrow’s
Dreamers awake
When the fuel of creation
Runs dry
Thus fools rush in
Where angels fear to tread
And shout
"Fill’er UP!"
Running wide ass open
Taking no prisoners
Casting laughter like caution
To the wind
Blowing up a storm of passionate dreams
And friends cheering us on
The road turns, twisting
Thought and perceptions
Into unrecognizable shards
Broken, poured out, spilled
Across memories of tomorrow’s
Dreamers awake
When the fuel of creation
Runs dry
Thus fools rush in
Where angels fear to tread
And shout
"Fill’er UP!"
Labels: gas prices, poetry, spirituality, travel
posted by Kim Williams at
7:25 PM
3 Comments:
I first thought it was a car accident but now I see it as another kind of disaster, a commentary on current events. What would Michele say?
Loved the fluidity of the second stanza, Kim. You've got your poetry-groove on. ;) Cheers.
This is the first one of yours I've read and I like it! Extended metaphors always elude me and I enjoy it when others pul them off with style. I also enjoy a good "punch line" on a poem. Well done.
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