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Chariot of Chrome and Vinyl Blue

CHARIOT OF CHROME

I ride my chariot of chrome
and vinyl blue
wheels squeaking
as I pass through this world
of one
no longer made for two.

I sometimes hear a voice
whisper “I love you”
from somewhere
and feel the breath of a kiss
caress my lips or touch my hair.
I still smell the sun and rain
of hot Summer days.

Phantom pain all this
they say…

I ride my chariot of chrome
and vinyl blue
wheels squeaking as
I pass through ....

Editing stage: 

Comments

Im no longer young Nor can reach the
fancy apparatus for the bulb in the
stairs I WOULD fall headlong like
Icarus trying to repair the sun

kid off longboarding daring life or death
the wind in her hair traffic dodge
music awards for momma on the couch
aromatherapy candles flicker
votive memories

Creeped out Im a cleaning fiend
about to punch in music and drown
out the hungry cat the rumbling air
machine on bricks with tube trailing
out the window

and quick read Neopoet and find this

this poem from my friend

and time stops
This poem is awesome
written with style and artistic punch
the repetition perfect
the feelings right at the edge
"I can still smell the days of sun and
rain Of hot summer days"

Man You can write Geremia!
Thank Y ou!
Your friend Esker

made me want to loan you my WD 40.

What a fine phantom image you make
Longobardolino,
your sense of touch and dream
in a squeak of vinyl blue,
the sound of pain mixed
with the feeling of love.

Beautifully evoked.
Anni.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

Thank you.Anni, Bryan and Steve,I am not physically capable of writing muchAppreciate ur cmments.:)

author comment

and there will be your masterpiece

exquisite joe
just the right amount of words and the right amount or repetition

and the chariot of chrome ... vinyl blue - great imagery

nothing to crit
love judy
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

My love to you, Judy.Thank you,

joe

author comment
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