“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 watcher. Show all posts
Showing posts with label watcher. Show all posts
Monday, October 7, 2019
following
in fews and some succinct
far betweens
where seeing is belief, a chasm
yawns
-wait-
let me reassemble this and that
together
it will come
Open
in relaxed moments, boxes
like these
corners
converse
wait and see
or not
and never mind-
prophecy, like karma
thinks
a lone to only one
conclusion
there is no watcher here
a wake.
Painting by Charles W. Bartlett, 1908 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Posts (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...

-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
Someone said, the full moon looks larger in the city because of skyscrapers- which said nothing about people feeling smaller, more co...
-
Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...