Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #347
Watch My Life
by Belinda Roddie
Watch my life turn into threads on the seams
of a worn down jacket of black and white.
We're high on honeysticks and broken dreams
as we blend bodies into inky night.
Our hearts are literally in our hands
as we traverse the boundaries between
life and death, love and hate. Our false commands
to a befuddled god that didn't mean
to exist in the first place just makes fools
out of us all. Our words are simply strings
that dangle from the stars; the swimming pools
we dip our toes into are idle things.
We find reflections that simply don't match
the life from which I plan to self-detach.
by Belinda Roddie
Watch my life turn into threads on the seams
of a worn down jacket of black and white.
We're high on honeysticks and broken dreams
as we blend bodies into inky night.
Our hearts are literally in our hands
as we traverse the boundaries between
life and death, love and hate. Our false commands
to a befuddled god that didn't mean
to exist in the first place just makes fools
out of us all. Our words are simply strings
that dangle from the stars; the swimming pools
we dip our toes into are idle things.
We find reflections that simply don't match
the life from which I plan to self-detach.
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