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Edgar Whitman Wilde
Poems
Nov 2012
are these strange thoughts I ask
outer, inner what are realities
conscious, unconscious
differing thought that gives
tangible form to such as that
which has only existed in my imagination
when voiced indicate the delirium
of those dark despairs
that hang pitch black draperies upon the wall of my mind
in continuous distortion of ordinary motives
amplify my feelings, implosive and apocalyptic
forming an agonized arena of anguish
whose illusion is a disguise of perplexities
in a deployment of destrubing exchanges
of dubious sense that sit like a petulance
upon the mind
while I in patience stand smiling at my grief
Written by
Edgar Whitman Wilde
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