With A Knitted brow.... I Digress.-4 poems
With A Knitted Brow I Digress.
In the darning
of the sock,
lies the damning
of the foot,
begging to
burst free,
It claws toe holes
in the woven bindings,
longing for the
feel of soft grass,
on the sole
of the wanderer.
Sealed in
tight leathers,
strapped by laces
knotted in bows,
sweating in the
sleeping bags
where toes
are smothered,
it is a prison
of podiatry.
Darn not
the socks,
damn the customs
that leave us
unable to be
barefoot and carefree.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
©-MFB III
Gigs and Ghanga.
I can barely
remember Hotel Haze,
in a suite decorated
with 5 rockers,
lost in the blues
of a song and a bong,
sprawled like
loose jointed puppets,
on cushions and shag,
paying unplugged riffs
to fill the rifts
in a show
the next night.
We were young
and full of spunk,
the world was our
blue oyster cult,
and we suckled the meat.
Groupies filled
the emptiness
with emptiness filled.
Then the scent
of sweat, ozone,
and black velvet shots
greeted us back stage,
after dreamless
nights of revelry.
Soon enough
the crowd
devoured our
inspirations,
burning Bics
to call us back,
for an encore,
one last morsel of music,
to carry them off
to their real worlds,
and bid us return
to the Hotel's haze.
©-MFB III
Saturation Point.(haiku)
Umbrella shelter,
sucked into a tulip shape,
as I am deluged.-----
©-MFB III