I was doing a puzzle today, and writing poetry, man what a weird combination...enjoy! |
-Pulling Puzzles Apart- by Keaton Foster On a table To be shambles An unfinished puzzle Started long ago Nearly every piece Placed The image Once a mystery Now Unmistakably clear I know it well Oh’ the hell I will see it always Burnt into my core I wish there was more A way to express Every finite concept But there is not No way No damn how You Stranger true Must take this A silent man’s word for it I am no breaker of truth But rather An exaggerator of lies So eager am I To dismantle To rip it to shreds The unfinished puzzle that is Those shreds will be Broken down, further indeed Placed into a puddle of gas Lit with a book of matches The ashes to remain Will be placed in a hole As deep as forever can go No one will again know My dearly departed wife The love of my life Spent weeks Placing each piece She worked the edges The perimeter was her thing Once she was done Once everything could be contained She began to place the middle All the while not knowing What the final image would be I wish I could have been close When she finally could see When she without question Knew I of course could see all along Oh’ the hell The sweet swell of her eyes The breaking of her spine The shattering of her heart All of which would have left her The love of my life as broken As the image that she Had just spent weeks Tediously piecing together Pulling puzzles apart Is as always just a start There is of course no ending But rather a constant state Of ever-evolving transgression What she saw Is what others have seen I won’t tell you I prefer the idea Just like with her That you’ll never really know Of course until it’s too late Oh’ the hell Please take your time Placing the outsides The perimeter is king The middle is for every fool Pulling puzzles apart As always It’s just the start… Pulling Puzzles Apart Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013 |