Swirl black
forever
never around my mind
sharp as ever
yet swirl black
my senses take
one, a many, a million
recurring
conscious recurrence
acceptance? denial?
of that innocent ignorance or calculated apathy?
I speak of things i feel, so primordial, that structured expression kills the essence. I speak of things i see. so easy to ignore, yet, so crucial I find release in the seeming disorder of my Poetry; the subtle signs i see.
2 smoke wisps:
:) you have something about the 'way' you write that makes some others feel like lesser mortals.
ahh.... now this is something more to my liking, vague with such abandon, but simplistic in a linear construct, basic rudiments of thoughts strung together almost violently; the result a very pleasing randomness, evocative of something basic... raw and uncivilized... yet adumbrating a surprisingly cohesive line of thought... and adding to the spicy brew, some words i consider my dearest, black, apathy... indeed your best so far...
Post a Comment
You whisper your name... but i can't hear it.