Trees
Vertical victims of posts
A barer of commune I que from whispers beside paths.
Now freed by frozen pixels from burden bidden barks,
A phantom poet pirouette.
Syllabic slivers from these flayers of surface hanging now in space
Observations little changed from dust,
Mostly concealing,
Little revealing of surface,
Non-royal outsides blanketed with insight blind binding to the points.
They rise in puppets of manual pullation.
“I think therefore you are…”
Illusion of control from the process of authoring,
Sharing, shattering, shimmering, cymballisims
Before and passed your eyes.
Understanding feints
Meaning swells
The dance entertains.
Who wrote that you or eye?
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1 comment:
I think this is interesting, although I can't always figure out exactly the meaning of your poetry. But then, I've always had challenges interpreting poetry ;)
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