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Literature Text
There is an ocean
beneath
my veins
pumping salt water
to
my brain
I'm just curling and crashing
with
the waves
but I can't stop the erosion
from taking my name
beneath
my veins
pumping salt water
to
my brain
I'm just curling and crashing
with
the waves
but I can't stop the erosion
from taking my name
Literature
Shamditions
is there anything worse
than insomnia?
maybe this voodoo doll
who just won't stop staring at me
or maybe it's the frustration
with myself and my inability
to go back to sleep
to write how I want
you do not rule me or my art
take your traditions and walk away
or I swear on my art
which is my life
I will rip your traditions to shreds
Literature
In the Syllable
...then there is a way in diswaiting.
Dust some yellow sand covers,
here uncover bare bedding.
...suffusing red planes, blushed dunes,
under incidentally quilted blanket
wet as arid curves, as sounds.
...in a persistent pavement,
in a solemn unsuited promise,
some written words erase
some letters drip and soak
unto a perfuse miracle,
a dislocated split,
a letting go of...
Literature
the ghost
I don't know what I'm waiting for,
because I am a ghost and yet
I sit on my hands and wonder
where you've been -
I walk the forest in circles,
the methodical crunch
of leaves beneath my feet
and I remember
that you made me feel small,
and alone. here I am, facing
this brilliant hue that is me and myself
and I am the ghost but somehow
you are haunting me.
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i can't write today
© 2014 - 2024 reechy
Comments12
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there is a level, dear Poet, where you are beyond of names and of other selfish hieroglyphs. When have you been there?