Symphony of Chains- Poetry from The Captain's Chair- The U.S.S. Minnowprize!

in #poem6 years ago



Noone told me it would be this hard.
sitting here, in the yard.
one arm raised against suns cruel glare.
high upon the watchtower.

Lean back against the concrete.
the only solid in this world.
twisting and turning, running the gangs.
keeping a screw loose.

Cause I'm the man with the plan.
got some click-clack, killer gat.
all these eyes gonna turn blind.
my path is clear.

just straight run to the wire.
fingers like claws, reaching for the outer.
only to realize, this is my home.
here, forever lain upon the stone.

jailbird, singing my song.
guess what, I was free all along.
screws dug deep into my spine.
suckers, you're all mine.

you confided in me a little too late.
congrats, you sealed your fate.
come with me little mouse.
squeal like a piggy.

shackles on tight, stick to the light
follow that line right to the end.
let lips bend, tell the story.
To the man behind the desk, seeking glory.



music-278795_960_720.jpg



Caught in the double time between notes.
I just wanted to play.
Run and prance, with the music.
Nothing here.. just silence.

Eyes wide shut I stare into the shadow.
Hoping to see something more.
Just the notes broken before me.
All scattered on the floor.

Fortunate they glisten still.
With symphonies yet described.
One little gust is all it takes.
Along flutes cold perfection.

Pick up the percussion now.
Foot tapping, back snapping.
The pages yellow on tall stand.
Just like your beard, old man.

Put that baton down instructor.
Lay down the pick.
Your nails are long enough.
Too bad, that sound was sick.







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This post has received a 50.00 % upvote from @sharkbank thanks to: @sammosk.

NICE POST
your diction make rhymes intertwine with the beauty
I comment with this

time is getting closer to the night
my eyes could no longer see the light
dark and lonely grew tense
until the mouth can not string the sentence

when the legs begin to weaken
the sound of the night came soaking
shackled by a silent chain
until he could not stand up again

I got up to get the stick
to get rid of this pain
so as not to get caught in the self
looking for who will help

the beauty of the chain symphony
whack any end of harmony
his voice was like rain
tinkling grips all mine

Wow! This is beautiful!
Thank you for writing such a lovely accompaniment! <3 You truly have a way with words!

thank you again for your appreciate.

Wow..... this really an interesting content. It was enjoyable reading the line one after the other.

Well done for churning out good content.

You got a 7.40% upvote from @postpromoter courtesy of @sammosk!

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This is narrative poem. Poets write this poem how to server message to all reader. Rhyma not number one in this poem

great work

The words create very vivid imagery. Very nice. 5 cookies out of 5 indeed.

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