I have not tried the taste of floor
Because I glisten and
When you or they drop me
Plain and unwrapped
I pray to be less shiny;
Nor have I pressed my bare body on the courtyard.
I am almost unbearably bright.
Silence beckons.
I create experiences for myself.
Even this is too orderly.
I have not swung on trees;
I’ve not fought for my country
But I am not empty?
Because I am a newborn.
I must stop reasoning.
I have not slid down the falls
Or licked the tiles of the pool.
I am not filled either?
I cannot feign rust the truth is
Start writing.
Work-in-Progress
[Hunting for a good quote]
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
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2 comments:
how we are sheltered empty carcasses yet precisely because we know so we arent?
lol did it comes across as dreary? what i had in mind was more of an inability to write because of lack of experiences, conveying this through the image of an empty, shiny tin. also the idea of a structured frame of thought that hinders writing, which i tried to show by arranging it in a patterned, ordered fashion. i.e all the first lines of the stanzas connect tog, followed by the second and the third, etc: )
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