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michal-shilorPoems
i must admit i've missed the touch of pen against recycled paper, recycling thoughts and sensing coarse unity against the edge of my right-most finger and its adjacent palm-side. it is with somber truth from which I can not hide that I shout for you to r e a d my w o r d s; i know not why, but these are my offerings in such a life;: all i can honor for a god or a friendship or the strangeness of sequences, all i can serve as a side to my heart. at times i wish i were more blunt, and at times you throw a glance which shuns my person into shyness, these s e a r c h i n g e y e s run-a-marathon while you look away, seeking a face of interest. it is silly, on my mind's part, for even if we find a point of interest, it will remain visual; these teeth, this tongue- we forget our purpose when it is most desired. as it stands, i am a bird alone. no, i try but remember not the last time i took off with another: i am single, i am solitary, i am contradictory conflicts . through contradictions words stand strong and i will always have you, even in death I will write you, even in life at its fullest, apologies fly like fireworks; my obsession with my premature death is leaking onto pure word-pages and suddenly the sanctity of poetry is tainted but it is looming here, in this atmosphere, this knowledge of the end of life before it's started; and that is why danger is seductive and adventures are a weakness, and that is why: I love with all my soul.
0
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 10:07 AM UTC
bird
i must admit i've missed the touch of pen against recycled paper, recycling thoughts and sensing coarse unity against the edge of my right-most finger and its adjacent palm-side. it is with somber truth from which I can not hide that I shout for you to r e a d my w o r d s; i know not why, but these are my offerings in such a life;: all i can honor for a god or a friendship or the strangeness of sequences, all i can serve as a side to my heart. at times i wish i were more blunt, and at times you throw a glance which shuns my person into shyness, these s e a r c h i n g e y e s run-a-marathon while you look away, seeking a face of interest. it is silly, on my mind's part, for even if we find a point of interest, it will remain visual; these teeth, this tongue- we forget our purpose when it is most desired. as it stands, i am a bird alone. no, i try but remember not the last time i took off with another: i am single, i am solitary, i am contradictory conflicts . through contradictions words stand strong and i will always have you, even in death I will write you, even in life at its fullest, apologies fly like fireworks; my obsession with my premature death is leaking onto pure word-pages and suddenly the sanctity of poetry is tainted but it is looming here, in this atmosphere, this knowledge of the end of life before it's started; and that is why danger is seductive and adventures are a weakness, and that is why: I love with all my soul.
michal-shilor
Written by
michal-shilor
Israeli
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 10:07 AM UTC
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