“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label shoes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shoes. Show all posts
Thursday, January 30, 2020
(w)hole sentences
This practice
does not make perfection
but a percentage
lingers with something special.
There are notes everywhere
like atoms of crumpled
origami sound making the shape
of scribble.
Misaligned,
a cacophony
anyone can blow or bang, shout and wail,
I am trying to make some music
but I cannot flesh out
the transition.
I was always fondest of shoes,
Like endings.
I wonder, while I look at all the
scattered pieces,
amble across the landscape
of my desk like deer pathways
is why I cannot seem to finish...
Artwork by Hans Holbein (1497-1543), 'Studies of the hands of Erasmus of Rotterdam' in [Public domain].
Sunday, March 3, 2019
Weather (or not)
There are no problems, I have been told,
simply-events, an occurrence.
It is no coincidence, it suddenly occurred
to me, occur can be like low tide, recurring.
If there are no problems, are we living
in a comfort(able) zone, which becomes
uncomfortable,
like growing out of shoes,
or them growing apart
from you.
Returning our attention
to the steps we take, looking down,
we notice the children all looking up.
The sky is never the same.
Painting by Eugene de Blaas [Public domain].
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Gravitas
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