by Chris G. Vaillancourt
Four o'clock in the morning. Wide awake.
If self-destruction is called for. Let it come
from depths unknown.
Years of tangible waste mentioned as the
dawn cracks like whips thrashing against
the anger.
Something is wrong. Something is right.
There are so many varied levels of thought
on what should be.
Isn't earth where I am supposed to be?
Here, where speaking my words are
considered necessary.
And when it stops, when it ends, will
the rambling wheels of preparations
rush ahead?
They'll meet with sombre people to
pick boxes of wood and plan the
final songs.
I will sing those songs. I will bond
with the holy words of praise and
solemn goodbyes.
Four o'clock in the morning. Wide awake.
Drinking ice water in the crawling
towards tomorrow.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Over 200 of my poems have appeared in more than one hundred journals in the U.S. and Canada, in Japan and Australia, and the U.K., I have had a series of chapbooks published in the 1980's by 4 Winds Press, such titles as "Doors and Windows", "Dancing in the Eighties" and "Slow Burn"., I have had four poetry books published, "Teardrop of Coloured Soul" "I Walk Naked into a Cloud", "the Rushing Stream of Desires", and "A Yellow Sunshine Night".
Last updated February 15, 2016