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doesn't need a title
eager eyes attempt to cover
what discretely like-minded minds hide
and in the shadow cast by explorers
another newborn we've yet to smother
"progress" hindered by "why"
draw a crooked line down the sidewalk
dare cross your rightfully owned slither of "freedom"
more words to rearrange in history books we've yet to bind
what could and won't be
a train of thought on rails slowly buckling
know in the depths of life itself
far enough down you'll find there's nothing
This is by far my favorite of
your works...
such a unique poem that it is very difficult to place in any single tradition. The raw emotion seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Your poetic form, seems quite faint. Although, it is full of great pain, the word "anguish" comes to mind, for this reader, an essence that seems to describe my mind as well as it does you the poet. Your inwardness is brilliant, steel hard language that compresses a great deal of meaning into a very small number of words. It leads all who read " doesn't need a title" into a flight of imagination of what the title could be in this moving work of art.
Peace
Dylan
"One of the best results of life, is the torment of love"
Dylan Eliot
I am imploded
The internal exploration, the crooked line down the sidewalk, the grace under power, incredible art this - Lady A