WATER HALF EMPTY
by David White




BACK TO MAKING A SCENE






© David White 2004

All poems are copyright of the author.
Use without prior permission is prohibited.

Shut off
Climbing my walls
Calling my own bluff

The mask slipped on,
and me rocking,
warming to its pride

Padlocked all the obvious places
That I could hide
And hidden the key in plain sight

Empty snow globes looking for Bognor
Bad hair cuts I have known
Nothing fits

With money in my wallet
I have seen the right way to shop
but found nothing in my size

I have emptied these pages
A thousand time before
Like a soul shaped ashtray

I have a leaky pen that seeps into my eyes
that snaps over paragraphs
And pencil sharpened rhymes

I have taken my fists
And beat glass
Till the cracks turned to a paint by number portraits

Nothing answers the same
Making the words I write
Unfeeling, emotionless a dirty rotten shame

Glass half full
Water half empty
All costing the earth.

Shut off
Climbing my walls
Calling my own bluff