Untitled
For the next three poems I choose "I don't know?" and "baptism" since these are old poems that I found that survived the burnings. I no longer write like this, but the last of the three is more my slant towards Robert Creeley.
pairs of praying hands, perched
upon flowers, unfold and take
to flight as butterflies.
streams applaud in passing,
dashing water upon rock,
the sound of no hands clapping.
pebble splashing ripples
echo claustrophobic feelings
of the ceilingless room.
in the sunset, rows of reeds,
standing in standing
ovation, fade and fuse into oneness.
and there you are,
a barefooted ballerina
caught in kinetic
storm sway hip gyrations,
dancing a top a music box
of mud.
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.
