Goodbye To All That


Clear light pours honey
Casual elegance
The only true one

Thunderclap shakes
The flats-for-scenery
Too late to flee

That mutely lurking backdrop
Leaps suddenly into view
Its feline pounce rewarded
Vapid self importance
An ice cube at midday

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on August 21, 2012, in Poetry, Writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. I feel like I’m on acid after reading lol. Your illusive words leave me curious 😉

    Liked by 1 person

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