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Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #2230486
Follow creativity to it's source. Don't get off the bus. Write when you get there.
From my window in the faces
As my bus drove other places
The graffiti prophet spoke
A gentle sermon in his joke

It’s not the questions, if you cry
It’s all the notions that are why
The passions of the moment pass
And so what’s left is so what lasts

Life flowed past the tinted window
Down a list of city noises groaned
Emptiness was my reflection there
And so to it my questions were

Speak some truth my public fool
Stand and make or break a rule
Share my head some ones and zeros
Show my heart romance and heroes

The river’s not too fast or so it seems
To stop the really mighty dreams
You don’t think the rivers wide
Till you need the other side

History shows in life’s attrition
Reality’s not just strong suspicion
So Plato’s light did come and fall
And throw the shadows on my wall

Rust and rot on gossamer wings
Dwarfs and Elves with magic rings
A smell of life a taste of time
Nine cents missing from my dime

Women bite and whiskey stings
All the bitters sweet can bring
500 channels in the sky
Showing us the vein’s run dry

Saw it through the chain link
Tween the crack and boards
Heard it on the radio
Tween the minor chords

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