“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Friday, May 27, 2016
Minced words atop static
Static carried on air
clings to its own non-being
i'm-potential
like white
white of poltergeists
or the white whir
i'm-between
towers
Interference splits
with pixel holders
i'm place
Spliced volumes
inaudible water
falls
These were always empty buckets
As a book is a chalice fore-
thought
Media makes masks
with hollow eyes
re
perceptive
think for me-tell me-show me
Empty
w/out your feedback
reciprocating back feed
in mixed media-the medium
is largely the message
fully charged.
Image By Darjac (Scanned by Darjac) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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