I write because my shadow scares…
Its ephemeral, moody essence
Cannot be all that I create
I write within the cylinder of ego
The faster it revolves the more words
Become centrifugal announcements
I write because you are in pain
And I am too compassionate to watch
Yet too timid to touch
I write as bridges collapse, cities flood
Bodies decay, fires etch scornful tableaus
And a country of howling worms wails for its embryo
I write to stop the sun
Negotiate with time
Configure this galaxy, this dimension
I write to disguise, trick, bamboozle
Keep you off balance and confused
Play-Do your sadly malleable spirit
I write to hide all my secrets
To control within the tsunami
This tiny bushel of longing
I write because far too many
Are planting tomatoes – Joe Del Priore
Joe Del Priore is a frequent contributor. Comments on this poem can be sent to: current@hudsonreporter.com.