Adagio

   

told ya
I’d like an adagio
but sadly
presented me a largo
then the song,
a riddle was whispered
our thought-out worlds, which
were rather sour and parallel

   

an old saying, that
our time’s a wibbly wobbly, timey wimey ball
roaming on the edge of limbo
and flashing into the wilderness
underneath the harsh sunstroke
I, and the coda
whatever stereo or mono
laid unconsciously
when the silence fell

   

never, ever
thought of this fall
would end up to be
a vacalise tone
filled up hoarse roar
nevertheless
pledge to light up your life
with my poems, I
still, and I will

   

Eric

   

(2005 Photo by Eric@Bettys Tea Room, York)