“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Wednesday, September 14, 2016
Rhymes with Bucket
As an echo gargles the ells
Is that All
I've got
given it _ All-
-pulled back, squint in-
-tensed up-
Un-wound,
I begin to see specifically
out of line
drops
in
the bucket...
...
..
.
By the way: (I lost sight of mine
I, me-I, me, mine
and All those
hollow no's)
Enough is Enough
to go around
for each of us plus
it's All superfluous.
Half-full, half-baked,
half-witi-schism-
wrung wry
and completely empty I be,
sufficiently still sere here
unilaterally.
Image By FOTO:Fortepan — ID 92566: Adományozó/Donor : Unknown. [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Tres (trace)
Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...
-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
This world is not for breath for feelings also come and go. As hard and light as Push and pull Go. Busy hands and bees-electricity, alter...
-
Today seems like a good day to burn a bridge or two. The sky resembles a backlit canopy with holes punched in it. In California...
No comments:
Post a Comment