Thin wafer of silicon
Placed on my outstretched tongue
Giver of life(lessness)

Finitude is beautiful though
****** digits splayed 
One thumb grows from my tongue

mike-dm

Thumbs up

Jun 6, 2026

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irving-macpherson

This piece makes me think, then re-think. Very interesting.

removed.-8hy5

If someone were to ask you if you simply put words together and called it a poem, and then tried to add some crap meaning to it--

How would you react to such a question?

Although the inquirer could not entirely know (or could they?) if that were the case.

You could have someone who is obsessed with dictionaries and words, but not know how to string them together with beauty.

You could have them simply typing together words that 'sound' pretty or are definitioned to be pretty--

But the message behind it would not be pure, and the message would not mean anything.

Nothing of judgement, just an innocent question that any poet could answer.

Ya?

And now all poems you make or I make or anyone makes have to have a message--

They could simply sound good pieced together inside ones head.

But I'm looking at your words, and my brain is smoking because it is trying to decipher the puzzle when not all the pieces are present.

Although that is true with most poems (the writer holds the last key, usually, the ultimate meaning), there still feels like there should be more words, more description, more SOMETHING...

Because I know that something is being said here--

And I'm not going to pretend to understand it--

I can try--

But there is no use singing a song when the correct chords are not present.

And this song that you've written is playing just fine--

I just cannot HEAR all of it.

And it makes me envious, makes me a bit flustered--

Because, how can you learn to scribe down your mental conversations, the mental pictures of yours words and thoughts--

And I can never view the things that I type down, or sketch down, or demand that my mind remember until I can record the rhymes and ideas...

But there is no use being envious, or jealous of you--

Or of the things that you manage to catch and put into digital form.

May I ask if there was a message behind this?

Such a lovely image here that I can't entirely see--

You may refuse if you'd like, lovely poet.

Your call.