Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Untitled as of yet...

In Greek mythology, they speak of the House of Rumour. This house has no walls, only sound waves that are carried throughout the world and end at Rumour's house because she hears everything. The following quote by Bill Cosby and the Greek story combined have led to this poem, which is currently untitled.

"End the name of your child with a vowel, so that when you yell the name will carry." - B.C.




"Where are you goin'?"

She asked her curious and curled apple dumpling,
Wandering far into thicket and field
Away from mother's buzzing house of tall tales
And dying fact.

Hands beaten by tall grass curtains
Short ottomans of thigh high bushes.

She runs too fast for mother's sweeping ears.

Wind whipped and watered eye trail decamp to
Mist leaf and blade with the soaking sonnet of privy.

The tear drop turned dew drop chorus
Fills Rumour's ears of chaotic commotion.

Sounds settling, leave no soft murmurs of
Ambition's mud soaked footsteps.

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