Monday, January 29, 2007

poetry 2

a week without spilling out the words
is the burning cross
with my insides boiling

busy week
distracted week
only rhyming preffixes

syllabus students
working the vending machine
in drop/add anarchy

nights echoing
day’s folly
foulness at rest

a dance
without any music
Posted by at

8 comments:

Pat Paulk said...

Know the feeling. Like trying to hold your breath, you can only go so long. Good exhale!!

4:22 AM
Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks Pat! I was sure you would know what I was talking about. Thanks for the clever and wise comment, my friend.

5:13 AM
iamnasra said...

Its been awhile ...Hope all is well with you..Poetry flows when its time to have a course within our soul

LIP is having yet again a Poetry tribute..I hope u can share with us (Ur thoughts)

1:25 AM
Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks Nasra! I enjoyed your last poetry tribute very much. It is critical for us as poets to define what poetry is, as our writing benefits from such activity.

I am always delighted to share with you. You are a very special person. Whatever you wish, I'll be happy to share with you.

2:08 AM
gautami tripathy said...

I have carried that cross a few times. I can understand how you must have felt.

10:20 AM
gulnaz said...

a dance without any music must be tiring like hell...exhale! :)

11:11 AM
Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks GST! Sometimes we just get to busy to even take care of our own personal needs, don't we? Thanks for the understanding comment, sweet lady.

9:22 PM
Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks Gulnaz! It was boring and painful. What a great thing to be doing things normally again. Thanks for the wonderful comment, my sweet.

9:24 PM

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)