Friday, February 08, 2019


#poemette #poeming #poetry

the falcons flew away
one by one
and the aftermath was a chaos

such calm that I missed the cacophony
order is so sterile
it gives us nothing

do we need vacuum
which is not conducively creative
mind rots in such a state

I want the mind to listen
to all the unordered
I want it to accept the unpredictability

let the falcons come back
let them be what they are
majestic in the midst of dissonance

"I wish to fill the pages with squiggles of unfettered doings"


1 comment:

brudberg said...

I can clearly see the image in the aftermath of raptors cleaning the bones.