grey
is an arbiter of illumination
bridges slung between
one piece of land and another
is it a pocket knife is it a pulse
how we hurt
tundras of felt I felt I feel
I'm not sure who he was
I remember his flip flops
and the report I read the following day
of his clumsy seppuku
unsuccessful
how that hurt
how that must have hurt
and Kelvin
who knocked on my scratched
perspex cage
the times his "uncles" his "friends" stole his pills
his home his anchors
its just probability
I suppose
these crooked tendrils tender
and devoured
Dawn, her bags of papers
torn and carefully packed
her love of Terry Wogan her
sharp right hook
slim strips of light
grey
is an arbiter of illumination
8 comments:
ha i liked hearing your voice...and i love the wrap around lines at the beginning and end...they are tight...and in the middle, yikes...i know that had to hurt...
Bravo Poet! LOVED the reading, your animation (and the ink!) Fantastic play with words..and big ups on the video...still haven't worked up the nerve to tackle that, so double hats off on a wicked write...and an awesome share!
Great rhythm to this piece!
What a great narration of this life slice. Your voice is so easy to listen to and believable. I really like this and the reading. The accent was comforting.
Great to hear/see the dvd, which really brings out the meaning. Sad stuff....
A great piece, and most wonderfully read!
Tangible sadness and a memory so vivid. I couldn't watch the little reading but I have to say great tat! Funny how we remember some people. Making gravy reminds me of my grandad lol weird little details x
As always, you do rhythm fantastically. Well done!
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