The Whispering Gargoyles

I want nothing more
Than to right my wrongs,
Kiss on a miracle
And fall in love with the future.

I want to conduct sun dials,
Race pigeons at dusk,
Write poetry that changes your mind
And improvises into applause.

I want nothing more
Than simple things,
A sun that sings out new thoughts,
The crest of a wave rising,

But I can’t even rise sometimes,
Paranoia kisses my neck,
Daydreams cackle
And the past starts to multiply stories.

I want nothing more
Than the ceasing of thought
For a minute or two,
Some kind of fog.

I can’t even fathom the truth,
My walk is the stumble of clowns
And the whispering gargoyles were right,
This building is starting to crumble.

6 Responses to “The Whispering Gargoyles”

  1. Hehe nice job. I have critiques but I will keep them to myself.

    This poem took me somewhere else, and I liked that.


  2. dunstancarter Says:

    Cheers Lauren – really appreciate your comments – stay in touch.

  3. Even crumbling gargoyles have wishes and dreams….

  4. the stumble of clowns…i like this…nice write..

  5. dunstancarter Says:

    Cheers Brian

  6. powerful piece..

    love your wit.

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