Thursday, March 02, 2006

Routine

I bulldozed rows
of cotton dunes,
squeezed others into
fault-line footprints.
My dreams wallowed ruts
on journeys
longitude to longitude,
and back again, and
vaporized like ghosts
every time
the dam threatened to break.
Digitized voices broke the silence.
I showered,
shaved, then
made the bed.

(all rights reserved Pat Paulk 2006)

12 comments:

Anonymous said...

Love the ending.:)

Carol said...

Very good, Pat!
I am so glad to have another poet to get to know.

tussand said...

Hello Pat,

Looks like you are in the same gang with Nick eh?

Thanks for droppping by and well, I must say your works are awesome as well. *speechless*

Borut said...

You hit it. What an end. My dream. I never do it.

eric l houck jr said...

my dreams are dead --
restless ghosts
disturb my night visions

Anonymous said...

Now YOU are the true poet.
a.

Pat Paulk said...

Carol the pleasure's all mine. Thanks for commenting!

Thanks Aristocrat!Enjoyed visiting your blog!

Eric, there are worse things that could be dead, I guess.

Always appreciate your comments borut!

Thanks Andrea! A very nice compliment! I enjoyed reading your poetry!

Pat Paulk said...

Oh, who did I leave out... Thank you AA!

polona said...

What a turn at the end - love it!

Russell Ragsdale said...

I really enjoy your dream/waking conversations. Might be a good theme for a book.

Anonymous said...

Very interesting.

Pat Paulk said...

Thanks Russell, Polona, and Mandy!