Thursday, September 21, 2017

Spasm


Silence sucks me through this narrow tunnel and only
in my knitted spiral, soundness burrows behind flat walls,
I am pulled down or out, never to get all the way
through to where
it is all white
there. 




Painting By Jean-Guillaume Carlier (1638-1675) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Labels: , , , ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Gravitas

For every poem I put here, there are four more never shared, around six never written and twenty-seven partially thought out. For every word...

  • 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...
  • City folk
    Someone said, the full moon looks larger in the city because of skyscrapers- which said nothing about people feeling smaller, more co...
  • Tres (trace)
    Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...