Published poem- The myths woven by us

Reflect a splintered fragment like splintered glass
in a mirrored rear-view
on a rusted car sitting in the woods abandoned

invented stories come out of our yawning abyss,
from our minds, half asleep

the fluid movement of our words moves with
unnerving ease, like wet
paint dripping off a ‘wet paint’ sign

we get addicted to our thoughts like a drunk gets
addicted to an empty liquor bottle

we play out of tune like evaporated milk,
yet we drink it

we play with others then toss them aside
like glued labels on old sneakers,

to them, can’t have the pain without
the pleasure

we look out of the corner of our eye
like a blind cat looks around
a corner searching for blind dogs

we believe there is a light inside us
surrounded by four stones,

the soul, the heart, passion, and belief,

yet we weave the myths
with a needle
and invisible thread,

but that’s like sewing a bullet into a revolver,

once the shot is fired, the damage is done

we have disclosed ourselves like
water has disclosed
itself to a crack in a dam

and then we try to put the water into
a single cup and offer it
to someone who’s drowned

we prey on other’s weaknesses
like dust preys on a drought;

feathers once filled a small room,

paid a penalty for participating
in child’s play

feathers float through stale air,
children grab as to catch,

much like myths woven
by them at
some time in the future

when they realize their dreams can’t be touched,
much like the feathers

much like lost car keys to an abandoned, rusted car,
the wet paint no longer drips.

Copyright © 04/22/2013 lance sheridan®



57 comments on “Published poem- The myths woven by us

  1. weedjee says:

    Well myths could be a medicine to enjoy day to day in reference with a nice future and we’re culprit of myths… nice again Lance👍👍👍

  2. Isha Garg says:

    The images you pen, Lance, are magnificent!

  3. “can’t have the pain without the pleasure” “like sewing a bullet into a revolver” read this over and over, each time it said more in a different way.

  4. francisashis says:

    Owing to poor vocabulary I cannot express my feelings after reading this mindblowing poem of yours sir.Thanks a lot for sharing it.

  5. allenrizzi says:

    Loved it! You may want to check-out my brother’s site: as they are always looking to feature good poets.

  6. Mary Mangee says:

    Outstanding Lance. I always feel introspective when I read your poems.

  7. crazywitch25 says:

    It reminds me of a song.
    After studying several druggies, reading articles and watching my grandma react to medicine, I have come to the conclusion that Elves are in charge of our reality. Sneaky creatures. Who wants Cizin?

  8. delphini510 says:

    Lance, I am totally taken by this strong poem of yours. Your subject and vivid imagery
    brings all to life.
    Just so beautiful and sad.


  9. Love this. The thoughts of stories surrounding the old car. Watching paint dry on a sign for wet paint. A laborious past time. Ah the feathers of child games of days gone by the battered pillow fills the air now stale with floating feathers too difficult to catch. Very visual poem digs deep into the past.

  10. Deb Farris says:

    Boom! Thank God for redemption.

  11. icefogger says:

    Beautiful, powerful and sad all at once. I read it, then went back to reread it several times after. Impressive imagery.

  12. rabirius says:

    The poem really is excellent.

  13. Imelda says:

    Congrats! This poem is rich with images.

  14. Oh wow. This hits home. Hard. Gratitude for your thoughts.

  15. Another brilliant, thought provoking piece!

  16. Wow Lance! Just brilliant!

  17. withthiswill says:

    This is a beautiful poem! I’m so glad that I was able to read it, thank you for sharing this work of art~!

  18. ani says:

    amazing poem. 👌🏻 the more you read the more the poem speaks to you.

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