“April the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land”
How little I know?
How much I’ve changed
Days grow younger
I grow older.
How little I’m kept
Older stoic faces fade into darkness
Monotone neon lights assembly
Eclipse full moonlight polyphony
No visible cascading shadows to
Trail light steps of romance
My past who honors her books,
In forgotten libraries
Logic through emotions
How can I write anymore?
When style lacks proficiency
In today’s poetry
Intricate hand crafted precious porcelain
Kept behind museums’ glass cages
Dust collects on their windowsill
No one cares anymore
When plastic became
The daily norm
Another full rotation on the clock
Bells tolling the loudest
Not for great poets from the past
Cathedrals brimming instead
With dead politicians
You do, you do, you do, you do!
Poetry passé, neon lights displace
Art quill master writing
Wordsworth spirit lost to
24/7 TV quarrel escapades,
“You do not do, you do not do
Anymore, black shoe”
*September 19,2013*
Copyright Leaking Pen 2013
Leaking Pen
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/neon-lights-3/
