Friday, May 26, 2017

The path is Brodsky


His sentences say
He never repeats them
With eye or I
How would we know?
He is only a product of
Progression, 
an obsession with freedom
Of speech and others
Sentences.

His composure, 
demure, muffled,
intonations
He shies away
From his fiction
Life. Sentences.
Written this way.
Point of Departure is too
Point of No Return.


Painting by Isaak Brodsky (1906) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Labels: , , , ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

And then...

  Change is like that strong smell of cut grass or chopped wood that stops you still. Patterns, a symbol can be an illegible sign,  at first...

  • The Creative Process by e.e. cummings 1 and 2 (plus 5)
                         1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
  • An Other Song on the Jukebox Baby
    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...
  • Ex-isle
    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...