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October 15, 2008

surreal poem

The Scourer

Visit the moonlit sky and the yellow ballroom dress

And Belle is dancing with the Beast.

Pedantic people stomp out of a coffee house,

scuff marks ridden on the floors.

They wanted pizza.

The Scourer among barren turfs

Find men in vacant vehicles.

They switch the radio on before they turn the key,

And listen to the sounds roar.

Then they hear the silence fade around a golden rim.

The gestation period has ended,

And it is time to give birth.

The logic remains departed,

But Beauty still dances with the Beast.

-Sasha Naomi

another poem assignment, due tomorrow. :) i promise I will start writing actual blogs and commentary...especially before the election next month! I am a little bogged down with homework/Kohls/life/husband ;) right now to blog any more.

1 comment:

Bridget said...

Its fine. We like your interesting poetry. Keep sending it our way. :o)