Thursday, July 14, 2011

present, teacher

 
them of us who dream at the moon on ocean
then set sail on low tide,
hack our way through blocks,
move inch by inch with darkness all around, solid and unrelenting
a complete ignorance to daylight, navigate by sound
no periscope, see out, see in
us who dont fit in neat slots,
no appreciation for piled up motifs on skill or craft
compared to the priceless of original or true
a noxious dislike for "time is money"
price tags with tickers, like grenade pins
pull and this delicate apparatus, will go off
count fifteen seconds, and keep running
destined to become, DH Lawrence's tedious links, between cause and effect
 
 

2 comments:

  1. Hello Lady! How are you? Thought will stop by and this is brilliant.

    Meera

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hello babe, I thought about you on Sunday really hard, it seems to have worked :D!!

    Thank you and stay with

    ReplyDelete