A thought with no name!

During the industrial age

of productivity - one's youth

thoughts could be found

in the haystack, or in

the green fields of memories harvested.

Now the mind

is just an empty stable

where galloping thoughts

that once was...

have ridden away

over mind's lost horizon

leaving a blazing saddle

of charred remains.

No longer are

thoughts groomed, fed

and ridden...

just an old brush, a rusty fork and

bad luck pouring out

of a horseshoe lie

in a house that once was.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"i been through the poem on a horse with no name"
very clever metaphors and imagery in this one, andrew...
i wish thoughts would be groomed again...but in this age of technology...there isn't much thinking anymore...
it's mostly about shortcuts of language...the sprint...not the long race.
j.