The less forward the more backward
maybe
bi-directional, eyes on the back of the head
one on top,
for breathing
in with a blink, out to shut off
another on bottom
for rooting
gravity to the sky
Seen
between blinks
accepting and denying the unpreventable
absorption
of what the sun has to offer
The less enlightened the more smarts
maybe
The thinking brain
creates a cloud
wringing itself
for rain
quitting while
in knots
The less delicate the uglier
maybe
Dirt wombs shout birth
for dying
intricate webs of dung
made gold
after baring the light
above ground
1 comment:
This is a good poem. I believe it is because of the repetition of a word that creates more than one interpretation, a response to a proverbial statement based on a balance situation of mutually dependent interlocking contradictions of ideologies, gripped in a struggle to reason but opening a new path in the process. A poem hinged on the black and white or true and false, only to break it down, all while strolling through abstraction.
Post a Comment