experimental poetry
city mirk
city mirk
roaring subway car
a dreary mind
oblivious of
his own life track
heightened
blustering voice
adding to
annoying noise
buildings that
are drab yet towering
concrete structures
remembering
what once was
a very beautiful flower
cropping up in a
pavement crack
The Grey Cosmos
The Grey Cosmos
She is coming from a
faraway galaxy,
hauled into
this sick and sad
world of ruin
—it seems!
If I am to seek out
the gods of
the numberless galaxies
in the multiverse,
I'm pretty sure
the angel Jophiel
will intervene!
Because here
we are..again,
entwined in my
own orchestration
which does not
even speak like
a Neruda, or any
of the symbolists or
transcendentalist
poets for that matter.
Oh, how I
can
only
dream..
So I think these thoughts...
because I
am amazed
by glancing upon
your starlight
once again
in
this unspoken
path.