SoaringIcarus Posted November 27, 2002 Report Posted November 27, 2002 How is it That words of glass and unblinking emptiness On glossy blue pages bent and dog eared Become bouncing marbles Between my fingers In an ocean Among gems They comb my stubborn hair Beat my drums With all the Right kind of rubbish, I’m not to hear. And the insolently static words Only wallow in their single dimension Obediently motionless so as not to Distract you from the marbles.
Guest Jonathan Wolfe Posted November 28, 2002 Report Posted November 28, 2002 This is certainly something, conflicting images of glassy happy images crossed with something dark and... I'm guessing it's a poem about song writing? Very fine. --- "Enternity lies ahead, and behind. Have you drunk your fill?"
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