I sink my hands into the ledge of a shore,
wheezing gentle ripples form;
Curious- curious as I became something e l s e
Drifting flakes of myself,
Like tiny spot in a grain
Within this moment
High-speed prisms of chaos
In russet and chrome, purple onyx emerge
Watching them spinning inside my chest
There is no reality, though.
I rivet along a sea
Daring the crest that wades, so impusively,
Existence rubbing my flesh, as I sink my hands into the ledge of a shore.
Get Your Scissors Out: Cut-Up Poems/Word Collage
For Charlotte Puddifoot
Copyright © Leon Datu | Year Posted 2014
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment