His midnight swim
his hat lay low on the Sunday sand
fending of the rays of a hungry moon
his withered hand twirled the pen
images appearing where white once ran
sunsets lost and mornings found
cocaine screams and hashish dreams
he stood and sank on the oceans roar
stepping once then twice a midnight whore
beneath the ripples a fish lapped past
ticking his future, forgetting the rest
his strokes shock wide into natures caress
his rhythm singing his final tune
his mind held while it all stopped
his heart beat floundered
his lungs collapsed
his skin forgotten his body lost
his thought remained ,
Fear the warrior
he vanquished with peace
love of the one who went before
took all he had from their empty shore.
.
Francie mcgivney 02.05.15
I post these things i write without editing them because i like the rawness. Why keep them on a page unseen or a computer disk forgotten. They all need editing they all need work, they aren’t that good but hey who gives a shite they are thoughts from my mind and as the mouse said to the cats mouth I’m better out than in
