Once Sariputra was attending a sort of book event: a dozen of young writers, men and women, met up on Wednesday of every week and read each other texts upon an actual literature. Sitting across a very open, a very red dress which sounded like reading something out of a story in a fantasy world, Sariputra was thinking about the void.
"This kind of openness does not mean emptiness, - he thought, - particularly, if to take into account "the plunging V-neckline and Empire-line midriff inset in satin with pressed pleats that cleverly accentuates a lovely bustline*". The narrative, in an obvious way, buys its acceptability by its substantive emptiness. If here a form is a simply emptiness and an emptiness is a simply form, should it assume that they both could, say, provide assistance on morally sound bestseller technologies where I have left a void, or waste of a dream, or explain why naught is naughty and why a perfect look matches a perfect emptiness".
The next reader was a girl in grey. Alas, her glasses, zits and her baggy turtleneck was eloquent testimony to her talent. Sariputra sighed and started to leave.
* Unknown glossy magazine.
" I am so always hungry."
Which is true.
If I am not hungry for food,
Then I am hungry for something bigger.
Answers to the secrets of the universe,
True Love,
A more substantial bustline.
I hunger for contentment
Just to be able to sit and be,
Exist... without wondering.
Thinking.
Drifting off into the empty, full to the brim chaos of my mind.
I wound be able to sit in complete silence.
But no, I am always hungry for knowledge and love...
Above all, love and answers to life.
And happiness.
Contentment, normalcy
I am constantly waking up in the middle of the night, starving.
Starving for attention,
Love
A father, family, foundation.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.