Poetry,
Suspended moments between
My truth and
The truth lived.
A stillness in motion,
A path of action like history,
Only the truth is to be it,
To walk it and ressurect it
In the words.
I am in my body
Knowing myself outside
In a sea of pages.
My poetry scatters,
The ghosts remain:
Poetry is a shared fury,
A shared oblivion,
My sorrowful song
Hidden deep in my Mother's womb
The unspoken part of my birth,
Retracing the lineage
Between seeing and believing,
Writing the constellated persons,
A torrent of memory,
A melody of love,
I close my eyes
And the words of my blood,
Footsteps of my words,
My pen covered in a quarter moon
Translucent like a fountain of night,
Poem that travels through me,
Scatters into the ink,
Words spoken
Reverberating quietly into eternal
Whispers.
Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 12:52 PM UTC
Poetry,
Suspended moments between
My truth and
The truth lived.
A stillness in motion,
A path of action like history,
Only the truth is to be it,
To walk it and ressurect it
In the words.
I am in my body
Knowing myself outside
In a sea of pages.
My poetry scatters,
The ghosts remain:
Poetry is a shared fury,
A shared oblivion,
My sorrowful song
Hidden deep in my Mother's womb
The unspoken part of my birth,
Retracing the lineage
Between seeing and believing,
Writing the constellated persons,
A torrent of memory,
A melody of love,
I close my eyes
And the words of my blood,
Footsteps of my words,
My pen covered in a quarter moon
Translucent like a fountain of night,
Poem that travels through me,
Scatters into the ink,
Words spoken
Reverberating quietly into eternal
Whispers.
My deep love for poetry.
