Purple's Platitudes

nothing but words …


26 December 2013



is a dying noun,

waves goodbye

like the last sad circus clown.

Pedestaled, yet

left behind

by busyness, we rationalize.


is a dying clause,

the gathered dust

swept up in the moment’s pause,

a grammatical construct,

nothing more,

fueled by guilt,

a burdened chore.


is archaic, slang,

a gathering storm, a. noisy clang.

For all its flaws and shattered dreams

it’s all that is left,

it means what it means.


26 December, 2013 - Posted by | Poetry |

No comments yet.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: