Poetry
Why do I write poetry
How does it change the world
You tell me it sounds nice
Do you really mean it
Or is it just something nice to say.
I like the way the words sound
When I read them to myself
Reading silently the rhythm
It resonates with the shapes
The swirls of ink on the page
Each black line makes a sound
Poetry of the flowing pen
Out of the pen flows poetry
Effortless and straining for meaning
The paradox captivates me.
Released from meaning
You tell me it sounds nice
How does it change the world
You tell me it sounds nice
Do you really mean it
Or is it just something nice to say.
I like the way the words sound
When I read them to myself
Reading silently the rhythm
It resonates with the shapes
The swirls of ink on the page
Each black line makes a sound
Poetry of the flowing pen
Out of the pen flows poetry
Effortless and straining for meaning
The paradox captivates me.
Released from meaning
You tell me it sounds nice
posted by David at 12:46 PM
2 Comments:
The first letter of each line makes each letter of the first line... I don't know where I came upon this form. Maybe this form came upon me. The letters don't have to be the same as the first line. It's an obvious way to put subliminal text into a form that is a poem.
i.e.
Letting go the boundary of me
Outstretched and seeking
Vulnerable to be stronger
Escaping a world of one
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