"unported" poems
Most people don’t know
That two halves don’t necessarily make a whole
Half a shoe plus half a butter knife makes something
infinitely more useless than either halves alone.
Or it makes something much more interesting
But still, whatever it is—it is not whole.
Most people want more
Than only half of things
I wonder: is it greed or just a desire for completion
And if something is complete, is it also whole?
And if someone were to search for long enough,
would they find the missing half to everything?
Unstructured Musings by Nicola Em is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 12:31 PM UTC
Hey, baby
sing me a tongue lullaby
I’ll dance for you if you would like that.
Twirling along the lilt of your sounds
as you utter them syllable by syllable.
I find you in the darkness created
by the infinity of
whatever it is we feel and you sweep me
off my feet—literally—and fly with me
away inside the music you created.
By then it’s only you and me,
although it has been all along
and it’s your body
and it’s nobody; my body
Entwined in the kasbahs of eternity.
An Adaptation of a (Love?) Poem by Nicola Em is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 12:35 PM UTC