Listening to an old Walkman
At the bus stop.
The darling splendid ruffling up of
Routine. I took the day off
Of work.
A sidewalk dream meandered
All day.
Who knew the stars in our dreams
Are the same stars when we are awake.
Do paradoxes dream?
Listening to an old Walkman
At the bus stop.
The darling splendid ruffling up of
Routine. I took the day off
Of work.
A sidewalk dream meandered
All day.
Who knew the stars in our dreams
Are the same stars when we are awake.
Do paradoxes dream?
Nice poem. Maybe because it is short, it works. I could envision a day off from work.
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Thanks Diana! I’m glad you liked it.
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Who knew the stars in our dreams
Are the same stars when we are awake. – oh just brilliant!!!
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Thanks so much Rajani!
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Great poem
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Thanks Heather!
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o Bob; this is wonderful; its shortness works in its favour: succinct and sharp; and that killer last line !!!!
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Thanks John!!!
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A gem of a poem, after that eye-catching title. It’s rich in music, dreams, stars — so thank you for this poem in my eyes and ears and brain.
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Thanks so much Dave!! Very kind of you to say.
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This is great, Bob. I love “Who knew the stars in our dreams / Are the same stars when we are awake.” Beautifully done!
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Thank you!
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Days free to ponder are the best days. A treat to read! 💫
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Thanks Michele!
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You’re welcome, Bob. 😊
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Beautiful, top to bottom….that poetry is a robbery and losing all control? The words and symbols beyond logic, dwelling who knows where, but every once in a while slipping into dreams or how do poets do it? How do you do it Bob? I’m convinced that poetry is a calling and there are so very few.
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Thanks Steve!! That’s very nice of you to say. Haha…maybe it’s the strong black coffee, long walks, and the occasionally J.
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Yes, the J! One of my favorite letters in the english language, as a joint and a jump shot!
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Routine needs a good ruffling up every now and then! Really enjoyed this 🙂
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Thank you!!
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