In a swiveling chair, the black and white images of light to the west, are reflections of mind in a humming machine. Turning a head, there is a closed window, showing an energetically inspired pen the nearing sunset.
Moon swept itching dark
Twilight, sunrises curtain
pink lids - open eyes
With a blink of instaneous awakeness and sleep, the neck turns fast, to look for inspiration.
Dusk - apart painted
eight queued paired mare and foal
foliage lined dark black
Without my sister's presence, the filmed horse's birth is only an image, lost. Indeed, it's the shadows of sunlight that have lit up the southerly tree with darkness!
May 23, 2010
May 23, 2010 at 3:16 PM UTC
In a swiveling chair, the black and white images of light to the west, are reflections of mind in a humming machine. Turning a head, there is a closed window, showing an energetically inspired pen the nearing sunset.
Moon swept itching dark
Twilight, sunrises curtain
pink lids - open eyes
With a blink of instaneous awakeness and sleep, the neck turns fast, to look for inspiration.
Dusk - apart painted
eight queued paired mare and foal
foliage lined dark black
Without my sister's presence, the filmed horse's birth is only an image, lost. Indeed, it's the shadows of sunlight that have lit up the southerly tree with darkness!
Free poem by Kongsaeng Chris Everson -2010
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