Tasseled Dreams

poem by: Stone Fox
Written on Aug 01, 2018

Tasseled Dreams
The thought of the future we will never have was pollinating foul fuzzy particles in the air, 
slowly following the wake of all those tasseled dreams I held onto to for far too long. 

The most intimate revelations can often expose plagiaristic suppressions that we’ve most likely, 
have already tried to to forget; suggesting to anyone on the outside looking in,
That there was a rancid cowardice secreting from the pores of all those who would deny the most basic of fundamental decencies to he equal fellow man. 

All the while, 
Boasting a loud tolerance that would be found falling with the last fleeing fall. . .
The very last of colorful arrangements made of watering oranges and bleeding reds, 
Falling from all trees never to be seen to fall again. 

The thundering drumming of my own heartbeat gave my freshly dead and over bland reactions, 
A new sparkling neon personality. 

But there are always those few extra fingering, lingering, successful hand gestures reflecting a prism of tracers-birthed from the most brilliant lasers, radiating something blindly gorgeous that could heighten with more sensitivity. 

Shadowing over the complexity of every kiss that I had ever been given in my entire night.

Spinning a silk and gold web all around me, 
That was more intricate than a disastrous earthquake. 

This flaccidly tight response came at a price, 
Leaving nothing but whispers and the wrong kind of impressions. 

The time for Dignity and Grace were long gone and felt decades away. 

Your tiny little temperaments helped with attempted to soothe me into a very still silence. 
Wooing me..	
Seducing me.. 
with such a strong touch of Romantic Readiness…
I no longer knew how to say the word “No”
Causing a stroke of sadness pass through me at the single sentiment. 

This dramatic departure killed any interest that might have supported the abortive sorrows and short winded elations of men attempting to market a profit off their own Tasseled Dreams.

 

Tags: Happy, Sad, Love, Faith, Metaphor, Riddle, Imagery, Abstract, Wishful, Deep,

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James Notley commented on Jun 22, 2020 at 5:45am
A love gone wrong, a physical love without the spiritual love leaves you feeling empty...why is it the man's blame for the shortfalls of a tainted love? the desires within the bedroom appear to be strong but also shallow...I like it....write on

 

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