Gearbox{ing}
By Maladroit
I downshifted into sepia dreams.
You were copper colored yesterdays,
and my gears ached for golden tomorrows.
I stalled to watch your colors shift,
clutching for better days.
Having idled too long in black and white,
I was beginning to dream in only red.
I plummeted into a slumber of drunken pursuit-
chasing rapture with gin of the toxic and a heavy foot.
Some oil soaked lies of liability whispered to me of a lengthy repair,
making collarbone collisions echo more like a dare.
But,
I awoke as his pale faced passenger,
breaking on floorboards with lost control,
steering my will to fume fan me logical.
And
he smiled in shades of every dream, unyielding to the timing-
from my mapless silence, onward driving.
Lip-synced nightmares curled inside of my ear,
these "Objects" read the mirror, "are closer than they appear."
Author's Note:
Take the damn wheel, Jesus.Comments on "Gearbox{ing}"
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A former member wrote:
Wow, very nice finish. I couldn't tell if you were in a wreck or not midway through the poem.
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A former member wrote:
Perfect ending and beautiful use of color. Love this.
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On Friday, November 8, 2013, TropicalSnowstorm
(1703) wrote:
Lip-synced nightmares curled inside of my ear, these "Objects" read the mirror, "are closer than they appear." - nice! I love the imagery of this one. Ciao, T/S
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A former member wrote:
This work rememinds me of my first accident. All to on well.
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A former member wrote:
10 for 10
Wonderfully written. ^_^
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A former member wrote:
the author's note.... and those last notes, so intense and plaguingly beautiful a heartstrum, falling upon consciously dumb eyes and deaf ears. i'm always listening. always.
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On Monday, October 21, 2013, Phalanx
(677) wrote:
Some people are too volatile to love. We have a penchant for self destruction or maybe just too much of a gypsy soul. Someone like that needs to know that you're paralleled in the same direction, that want the same destination even though the charts aren't written. Where are you willing and wanting to go is what you have ask yourself. Regardless, you shouldn't have to grind gears. Nice write. I like it.
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On Monday, October 21, 2013, dwells
(4288) wrote:
Only seen this warning celebrated in poetry once before as I recall, or maybe it was a song? Nevertheless a fine finish to a revving simile stuck in neutral, with an earworm dirge perhaps, cheers!
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On Monday, October 21, 2013, dwells
(4288) wrote:
Meatloaf's Bat out of Hell album.