IX

Benjamin Jenkins, poem, poems, poetry, writing

Born with the drive to strive.

Heaven and Hell

Play horsehair violin strings.

Harmony becomes symphony.

Live your dreams

Or fall

Through Alice’s looking glass.

Brought to our knees by

A self-aware synaptic miss-fire.

My life is measured in passed kisses

Beneath burnt charcoal skies

I smoke signal my wishes.

Memories pierce my veins

Backwashing a crimson decision.

My High

Plunges me into a rush of divinity.

Dropping from a boundless height

Burning with an evanescent light.

I become a color

On the spectrum.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s