Collage
I awoke last night,
To the sound of rain.
Falling pieces of cellophane
Disappear upon the ground.
Fog tiptoes over the valley floor.
A seed takes root,
Begins to grow.
Silence-
The children sleep.
Naked
And they with balding heads,
their half-dollar spectacles,
and beards that almost touch
the floor (when they lie down).
With smiling metaphors
and metaphysical similes,
and insights of all that’s nuclear,
I find it more–unclear.
Maybe it’s because I work
for a living–A real job
that pays real money,
which is always enough
to be starving,
but not an artist.
A love found by the ocean side,
or with the girl next door,
seemed foreign to me.
Maybe it just didn’t happen.
Or I blinked
at the wrong time.
And sure I thrill at
the sight
of an exotic dancer,
and see the statement she is making;
Except that she is naked.
Slowly Dying
I am sick of feeling sad
And tired of being broke.
Motivation has slipped away like
Sand through an hour glass.
Long days of toiling
Over setbacks, school and life
Will surely take their toll.
Like the winter that comes
Yearly, bringing death and cold,
Does my heart feel the sinking.
Yearning to be free
Inside I shoud be strong. But
Now I've found those feelings
Gone.
Bionote
Dean K Miller is a freelance writer living in Loveland, CO. He studied
creative writing at Lewis and Clark College (Portland, OR) and Mt. Hood
Community College (Gresham, OR.) His poem Naked first appeared in Torrid
Literature Journal IV: The D.N.A. of the poet. Other poems have been
published online. Miller is a 25 year employee for the FAA as an air
traffic controller who enjoys fly fishing in his spare time and
volunteers for the veteran’s support group Project Healing Waters Fly
Fishing. He plans to publish his first book of essays in 2014 followed
by a book of his poetry. Learn more at www.deankmiller.com. http://deankmiller.com deankmiller@live.com Twitter: @deankmiller
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