Wreckage

brianluxbrianlux Posts: 42,032
edited December 2012 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
At the turnstile I sat down and wrote this for just after disembarking. It's called...

Wreckage

Turmoil at the gates wrenches
Retching minds flinch at
The images and sound of
Weeping in the back ground
While the names are counted off
Slowly.

Train wreck of anger
Lends no solace to
Questions unanswerable but who
Would dare ask about the rain?

Rather instead let's ask
Who plays better tambourine? Ed
or Chris and who kicks
Ass better Mike or
Slash. But why ask if
It comes down to that?

Screech of wheels on steel breaking
Glass on tracks broken down
In stale patterns of bitter repartee
Waiting for someone to end up
On top when there never will be
A winner. It's wreckage, baby,
wreckage.
“The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man [or woman] who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.”
Variously credited to Mark Twain or Edward Abbey.













Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • Thankyou Brianlux.
    The vitriolic words on 'the train' do not honour those little lives lost, or the families who love them.
    I wish you comfort and peace xox
  • brianluxbrianlux Posts: 42,032
    Thankyou Brianlux.
    The vitriolic words on 'the train' do not honour those little lives lost, or the families who love them.
    I wish you comfort and peace xox

    Thank you, moretonbayfig.

    Peace and well being to you as well. :)
    “The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man [or woman] who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.”
    Variously credited to Mark Twain or Edward Abbey.













  • STAYSEASTAYSEA Posts: 3,814
    I love it.
    What a subtle way to express emotions that strong.

    :mrgreen:
    image
  • rollingsrollings Posts: 7,124
    brianlux wrote:
    At the turnstile I sat down and wrote this for just after disembarking. It's called...

    Wreckage

    Turmoil at the gates wrenches
    Retching minds flinch at
    The images and sound of
    Weeping in the back ground
    While the names are counted off
    Slowly.

    Train wreck of anger
    Lends no solace to
    Questions unanswerable but who
    Would dare ask about the rain?

    Rather instead let's ask
    Who plays better tambourine? Ed
    or Chris and who kicks
    Ass better Mike or
    Slash. But why ask if
    It comes down to that?

    Screech of wheels on steel breaking
    Glass on tracks broken down
    In stale patterns of bitter repartee
    Waiting for someone to end up
    On top when there never will be
    A winner. It's wreckage, baby,
    wreckage.

    That is excellent, Brian
Sign In or Register to comment.