Gotha Read Count : 116

Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A


Flip out.


In the Water,

Tail Spinning.

Down the Drain,

Try Snatch the Pole.

Out of my Hands,

But Knuckles show.

Then Fish stop Move,

I Reverse Wheel roll.

And almost in Two,

Snapped The Tight Rope.

When Fish Mad Dashed!

Tension Bowed The Pole.

Stretching the Line,

Like I Shoot Arrows!


Into a Void that 

Is Pulling Me In.

Man vs an Hour Clock 

Using Every Spin

But can’t Rock the Boat,

Chaotically Spinning.

Calm goes The Wheel as 

The Line begins Stretching.

To Knock Him off Balance,

With Counter Clock Dials. 

The Lone Fisherman Stands,

On One Leg In Mind.

Along River Jordan,

Where Clouds Roll Round 

Shoulders made to Sail 

In This Ocean Breeze.


As He Leans Atop

Both Bended Knees only,

Holding on and Letting go

Of Pole and spinning Wheel.

In this Tug of War,

The Dragging Frictions 

Are Felt as Splinters

Against the Beast.

Under Thorn Sun Burning.

From the Top of his Head,

Under Palms on Calf down 

Olive Oil Toned Bare Feet.

Here Man is Crucified.

And Made to Carry His 

Own Cross while Being,

Paraded Down the Sea.


While in the Air,

The Sweet Tale 

Of a Big Fish 

Is Heard Coming.

As Men Gather 

Round the Spot.

Set on Top There,

A Pan is Warming.


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