I'd thought my life settled,
Like sediment in a half full glass.
When all of a sudden,
My stomach's churning,
The sentiment swirling
Dissolving into a glass half empty.
Did I keep you like a tree?
Pruned to my liking,
So you wouldn't outgrow your confinement
And dredge the ground,
That would cause the foundations of my castle
To crack and come crumbling down.
Now you grow to your full potential.
Rising above the battlements
With your head in the sky,
Your memories clouded.
The picture on the wall
Hung for half their lives
Homely to the outside world.
Every now and then it would tilt,
And stay that way for months
Before anyone would straighten it.
Other times it would be straightened every day of the week.
The back had been temporarily Fixed with masking tape,
For years, nobody noticed.
Then one day it was placed in a brand-new frame,
Though the thought of a new frame had been hanging for some time.
And it remained in its new frame until it was old.
The picture didn't face a window,
There was never much light shed upon it.
It shone mostly in the shade,
In full view of its banishment.
The Sound of the sirens increased with the silence,
Whether because or despite of it, I don't know.
Was it always like this that you just didn't notice?
When the world was loud in concert-
The city crowd.
A cacophony of eyes, like frogspawn
Flooding in a pool of faces
My thoughts fight like a stopped clock,
Stuttering for time,
Outfoxed by memories I wish I had.
How abysmal the duration of the moment undergone,
The blank canvas of inspiration drowned by buoyancy.
Anthony Ward tends to fidget with this thoughts in the hope of laying them to rest. He has managed to lay them in a number of establishments, including, Shot Glass Journal, Jerry Jazz Musician, Literary Yard, Ariel Chart, The Metaworker and New Note Poetry.
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