Sigh! Lovely things buried inside.
his voice, it is mixing with music.
guitar lures me too deep.
Closed eyes smile, weep.
Voice is gold plated
replete with sense
tied to the pain
glaring vague lens.
The music flows,
then spin, spin around him.
tying knots to his hand.
water rising up the knee.
he breathes his songs in
his stainless steel lungs, they burn.
he laughs- "who cares what to win".
his stainless steel lungs - dry, done.
And the film rolls
credits in bold.
A head with a radio
as music play cold.
But I am listening still.
Poet's Note : Currently listening to Radiohead music... B-E-A-UTIFUL!
2 comments:
nice, but... far too abstract for me to comprehend? :-)
nice coz love reading your poems! :)
write on sir!
:) Thanks!
Abt this poem, I was listening songs of an english band named- Radiohead ( and they have a song as "My Iron Lung") and this was when I wrote whatever came in my mind.
Alo I love another english band - Coldplay, So that's why radiohead play cold and etc.
It's kinda stupid I guess :)
Thanks for reading!!
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