tannic acid and the metal teapot
where am I now?
the echoes talk to themselves
no silence left
thatís what she saw
when she came to pick me up Ė
from across the intersection
sometimes I donít know how dead I am, , ,I look
into my own face
I like the tone of these last two poems, Peter. New faces come into our lives all the time, changing our perspectives as they do.
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 08/18/2011 02:20PM by les712.
yes, Les, I'm experimenting with letting the voices speak to me that start up in my mind until I learn what they have to say, even if someone else might say, "It's just your imagination/Running away with you."
amo et avanti,
Without imagination, there would be no space travel, no i-phones, no art.