The Syphinx's Look (Stream I)
In a vacuum.
No sound to penetrate
without thinking they
Slid sliding into love,
Hip hopping out again
As easy as pie
Pi r squared.
As difficult to decypher
as the syphinx's look
Brought to book
All that mystery
and no, I know where to go
It wears me out
You know,
Go-
Go on find it, its there
Whilst I'm here
Do you hear there.
Their eyes lock
The key to their depair
Unable to stand they sit
Stare upon the stairs
With eyes that are all eyes
Mince pies.
Challanging the stereotypes
He types and types
What types he likes.
She bites the hand
But she not being fed is
Fed up so she eats,
Eats to forget the pain
They slip slide further apart
Hey break a heart,
That's the heart of the matter.
No matter.
P H Brookes Copyright 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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