You will not find poetry anywhere unless you bring some of it with you. Joseph Joubert

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

A Line Poem

A liquid blue bench and the street neon kissing its neck

An invertebrate elegance snow-printed crawling along

An audio memory unspooled, fingers unwinding the reel

All that is spun have heard the howling of the moon

Easy like a divine train into the hungry lair

A neurosis, is wanted, like brazen warmth in ferocious cold

And poets fall like drops of salvation from the anxious air

Like brown beans under the white, limbs throb for mollusk


Deeptesh said...

Great snippets of surreal images that come and go at a liquid pace.What lies beneath is a deeper and more intense proposition.

Ramanuj said...

beautiful craftsmanship. its a world of the thoughtful built on the strngth of words.