PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I can't... I can't even read these books today.

The tiny text is daunting.

It's all like blurred ink.

Haunting swirls

That I must

Stream into my mind -



My consciousness divine

Is being wasted

On paper's breath.

I try to fight through sickly heat

And put a cool glass of ice water

To my neck.

Chills submerge..

Wetness

Sinks into a desert skin...



For a moment

Pangs of vision

Engulf my sharpened senses.

I can see for miles

As a cold surge of change

Rips through my static dreams

And I can see...

I can see...

Touch

Taste the moon

And decipher your clustered musings.



And with all this ability at hand

I am simply floored,

As it passes in front of my face

Like the Sandstorms of Time -

The grains blind me

Without a trace of warning,

Then subside

Into morning horizons ---

that distant line of missed chances.



One day...

I

Will...

Embrace your hand

Etch your palm into mine.

Walk into the forest

Watching leaves transform...

gather in heaps at the dirt,

And re-interpret

All your lines...