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Literature Text
Selfless desire
Merged into one
Never retires
To the sound of the beating drum…
Searching through darkness,
Never to find
The burning restless
Within my mind.
Forever running
From my shattered past;
Forever yearning
For one final task…
Trapped in a mirror,
Trapped in the mist;
Becoming clearer,
The visage twists.
Conscious unknowing
Clouds every thought;
The hatred's growing,
Yet all for naught…
Resounding image
Trapped in the rime:
Receive this message
Drifting through time.
Searching for meaning
Where there is none;
What are you gleaning?
What have you done?
Merged into one
Never retires
To the sound of the beating drum…
Searching through darkness,
Never to find
The burning restless
Within my mind.
Forever running
From my shattered past;
Forever yearning
For one final task…
Trapped in a mirror,
Trapped in the mist;
Becoming clearer,
The visage twists.
Conscious unknowing
Clouds every thought;
The hatred's growing,
Yet all for naught…
Resounding image
Trapped in the rime:
Receive this message
Drifting through time.
Searching for meaning
Where there is none;
What are you gleaning?
What have you done?
Literature
Skin
We crawl out of our skin
just to get under
each other’s,
and once we’re
deep beneath one
another’s epidermis
we just lash at
the windows,
throw ourselves against
the walls,
we beat at the doors.
We rip each other
apart from the
inside out.
I think you know
that I’ve always
worn your skin,
always had your face
laid perfectly on top
of mine.
Good thing I’ve always
had your bones, too,
always felt your aches
and pains.
I own so much of you,
no wonder I’m always
trying to change.
I wonder what
you have left
of yourself?
A handful of
fingernails,
some locks of hair,
your attitude.
In my mind’s eye
Literature
Rejection
Neuropathy nudges
Crisply across fingertips;
Flaming pen drips as
Mental strength dissipates
Into malleable mirage.
Literature
equinox
my living room now
yellow roses
and morning edition
strange names recite even stranger
stories,
and the first day of fall wind
blows in.
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A poem...about nothing written to a pseudo-tune, so it can kinda be like lyrics.
Play on the term 'mirror poetry' which is my term for open-ended poetry that allows the reader to formulate their own meaning...
Play on the term 'mirror poetry' which is my term for open-ended poetry that allows the reader to formulate their own meaning...
Comments23
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It's so..... so beautiful!!!!