come to,
upon the waking world
without context.
"what is it that has been happening
these past few months,
when i go to shut my eyes?"
in memory if found,
there is nothing-
the lack of everything
which should be.
color.
sight.
form.
the vigor of meaning.
there is an absolute darkness
where activity was once held,
stored, used
to shape interpretation.
"what is it that could be,
or have been,
which i have now lost?
how many questions?
answers?
what of this daily life
could change?"
the incessant
desire.
a glimpse.
the fear of losing
one's self
in discarding
the language
of the soul
-the crass intangibles
left only to the
deciphering
inside-
Author notes
...
A contest entry
- Looking for new favourites. by Noir mariposa...x.
700 points, ended October 14, 2009, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
i love the words you use to write this. they are different, somehow, and the piece you create turns out just awesome. i love it, esp. this part:
there is an absolute darkness
where activity was once held,
stored, used
to shape interpretation.
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