Senses
Eyes see
yet it is the heart
that translates
ears mere cone carriers,
the many voices truly one's own
(schizoid nature of senses)
looking out we see in --
listening we hearken to
ignited self vocabularies
nothing concisely as it seems
Poe’s myriad dreams~ within dreams --
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.