"There's not much doubt in any of our minds that no complete idea springs fully formed from our brow,
needing only a handshake and a signature on the contract to send it off into the world to make twenty-five billion dollars.
The germ of the idea grows slowly..." - Walt Kelly

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Mist and shadow

Day Eighteen: I'm doing a spin on the actual prompt (which is to write a poem beginning and ending with the same word) and trying a circular poem, one that ends and then rolls back into itself. Get it? Spin?

these morning hours
bring us no new peace.
There are only bloated lies
blurred and buried,
just the tops peeking out
while the rest lurk
and wait, hungrily,
feverishly, to spear the hull.
And neither is there new life,
just safe, weary rumblings
made by the dead,
as the dead have earned them,
asleep and alive within and
breeding malice simply because
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Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Radiohead, The Tourist

1 comment:

  1. It would be interesting to attempt a reading of this with several participants.

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